


Will you come with me?

by CrowleysOwnTemptress



Series: Will you come with me? Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friend is with you, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Simple Hunting, giggles, post-Deanmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:11:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 67,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleysOwnTemptress/pseuds/CrowleysOwnTemptress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You (Your name) and your best friend (Bestie) are college students. You're wicked smart and have a certain... ability. After the first week of finals, you and Bestie need to let off some steam and find some interesting characters.<br/>(Fluff and eventual smut if all goes well)</p><p>This Is my first ever fic so be nice but don't be afraid to tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome!!! It's going to be really long so check back for more chapters. Hope you like it!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who are you?

**Author's Note:**

> Key:  
> (Your name) - you!! enjoy;)  
> (Bestie) - your best friend (if they like to party its more fitting >.>)
> 
> Hope you like it!!!  
> Oh and please take the time to read it!! I know some parts may be a little uninteresting and filled with back story but I promise it'll make it all the more enjoyable!!!
> 
> Okay Now you can start reading xD  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

“Oh! What about him?” You snorted into your drink.

“What?” (Bestie) asked giving you an incredulous look.

“Gay,” you say confidently.

“What?! How do you know?”

You looked over at the guy she was looking at. He was very attractive. Blonde hair, blue eyes, probably six-foot even. He was currently leaning against the bar, laughing with who you assumed were his friends.

“Look at his hips. Now look at the girl in front of him. See how their hips are popped the same way? And, dude. Unnatural blonde, distinctly un-masculine drink. When he laughs he twitches his head as if he’s flicking hair back,” you deduced. "Oh, and the guy behind him? That’s his boyfriend.”

(Bestie) chocked on her laugh and replied, ”And how, pray tell, did you get that?”

“Simple. He’s itching to claim his territory. Any second now-Ah!” You grinned. The man in question laid a gentle hand on the first man’s hip.

“Told ya!” you said smugly, turning your attention back to (Bestie) and your drink.

“I don’t know how you do that, (Your nickname).” (Bestie) sighed, “Okay, I give up. You find me one.”

“Oh no! Not going there again! You gave me hell the last time I chose you one,” you protested.

“Ugh! (Your name)! Please?” (Bestie) pleaded, putting her puppy dog eyes on, “I promise not to give you hell this time.” You looked at her thinking this time you could resist that look. You failed.

“Fine. But you’re going to have to be patient. There’s a lot of guys here tonight. In the meantime, go dance or get another drink or something,” you laughed, pushing her off the stool of the high table you had claimed. (Bestie) laughed as she walked away.

It had been a long week. You were a college girl in your spring semester of your junior year, on the fast track to graduating an entire semester early. First round of finals just finished up and you and your best friend (who you lived with) decided to go out and unwind and let off steam. Bars weren’t really your thing (you preferred Netflix or a good book and some ice cream, maybe a little fanfiction from your favorite shows), but (Bestie) enjoyed this atmosphere. You, being the best best friend ever, would be her wingman. You pretended to be her lesbian lover when guys didn’t back off and you gave her subtle warnings when a particular guy set off your inner warning bells. After being your friend for nearly twenty years, she trusted your keen senses and gut.

She also loved bring you along because of your peculiar knack for reading people without actually meeting them, like the hottie you dissected moments ago. She would pick a target and get you to read him. If she liked what you saw, that would be her target for the night. She would dance and flirt and tease and if she got him alone or gave you the signal that he was coming home with her, she would add a point to her mental scoreboard. If she didn’t like what you saw, well, next target. In times like these, when she kept picking “passes,” she got you to pick a target for her. You knew her type and what she looked for. You rolled your eyes every time because you didn’t condone her lifestyle. You were more the old fashion date-me-know-me-marry-me type; however, with a dramatic sigh, you always set about finding a suitable target. You were reluctant this time though, because the last time you picked one, he ended up being interested in more than a one night stand and (Bestie)… Well, she wasn’t about to be tied down in the slightest any time soon.

You scanned the crowd. You weren’t lying when you pointed out all the guys here tonight. This particular bar, even though it was the heart of the college town, was usually pretty low-key. Tonight it was packed. You caught a glimpse of (Bestie) on the dance floor. You’re protective instincts kicked in and you scoped out the guys around her. Most of them were drunk off their rear ends and not much of a threat but you’d keep your eyes on them just in case they got a little too handsy. You leaned back in your chair and sighed. A quick survey showed no suspicious blokes nearby so you closed your eyes and let the music beat through you as you absentmindedly stirred your drink with your straw.

“(Your name)!” (Bestie) yelled. You head snapped up and you found her within milliseconds. She was smiling and leaning on the metal rail that separated the dance floor from the drinking area. Your hackles went down.

“What?” you yelled back, smiling.

“Do you mind getting me one of those Long Island Teas?” Ha. That was her code for you to assess the next guy she talked to.

“Yeah,” you laughed. She grinned and turned around. She walked off the dance floor and up to the bar.

Surprisingly, she walked, ever so confident in her own good looks, up to a ginormous moose of a man with long, shaggy, brown hair. He was quite handsome. Six-foot four there abouts. Mossy, hazel eyes and a cool, confident smile. Definitely interested. He and (Bestie) started chatting. You looked closer, opening up your senses and letting your talent see what there was to be seen. Well-worn jeans, thick, scuffed steel-toe boots with a couple of dark stains flicked across them. Well-fitting soft-looking grey shirt with a blue-green plaid button up. A thick jacket with deep pockets draped over the back of the chair. He was a drifter, judging from the wrinkles in his over-shirt, but was hard working with many sleepless nights, as displayed by his hard body and dark circles under his eyes. His arms were thick and strong looking with thick scars on his forearms. Not light, low or thin enough to be self-harm. Interesting… There were a couple of scars on his throat as if someone tried to give him a Columbian Necktie a few years ago. His hands were large and calloused and battle-worn, covered in healed knicks and old busted knuckles. Travelling fight club with prison rules? No. His eyes were too soft. You didn’t get a bad feeling but you weren’t ready to give (Bestie) the okay yet.  
You zoomed out and looked at the big picture again. He was introducing (Bestie) to a man next to him and…

Woah….

If you thought the first man was handsome, the other was god-like in his looks.  
Slightly shorter, six-one. Short, light brown hair that had a just-got-out-of-bed look to it as if he carded his fingers through it a lot. Bright green eyes that sparkled in a gorgeous way. Freckles sprinkled his nose and cheeks. A nose that had been broken a time or two. His lips were something that would haunt your most… imaginative dreams. Well-loved Metallica t-shirt layered under a dark green button up with a black leather jacket that looked butter soft. Jeans well-worn like his brother’s, yes brother. There were too many similarities in attitude and mannerisms for them to not be. Thick, similarly stained boots. He nursed his beer as if he needed it greatly. He had a tired look in his eyes as if he, too, had a long, hard week. He eyed (Bestie) but she wasn’t his type and his brother obviously had dibs. He was polite and chatty but minded his own business.

(Bestie) caught your eye over the taller one’s shoulder and silently asked you, “ _Well? Whatcha think? Target?_ ”  
You smiled and winked. Her grin brightened as she caught your “ _Hold on…Maybe_.” You picked up your things and started to walk towards them.  
“ _What are you doing?_ ” she asked, curiosity coloring her eyes. You grinned and nodded to the brother on the other side of her. She glanced back and gave him an up-and-down glance. She winked at you as if to say “go for it.”

“Hey (Bestie),” you said, smiling as you walked up.

“Oh, hey! Guys, my best friend, (Your name). (Your name), this is Sam and his brother, Dean,” (Bestie) introduced, laying a flirt hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said kindly.

“ _Very_ nice to meet you,” Dean replied with a very pleased looking up-down look. You blushed.

“Hey,” you said shyly.

“Sam, here, was just telling me about how he’s an FBI agent working undercover in town on a murder case,” (Bestie) prattled.

“Oh really?” you snorted. You added “teach self to snort more attractively” to your mental checklist. Sam and Dean’s eyes darted to yours. Dean recovered quicker.

“Yeah. We both are. Guess you could say it’s the family business,” Dean said, snickering at a joke that obviously only he got. You narrowed your eyes at him while maintaining your smile.

“What Dean means is that we’ve had a family full of agents. And (Bestie) is right. There was a murder closer to the middle of town. We’ve been sent to see if we could find out anything about it,” Sam said regaining his easy confidence, smiling at (Bestie). (Bestie) leaned on the counter in a way that drew Sam’s eyes to her hips and chest.

“Can I get a double shot Long Island?” she asked the bartender.

“Put it on my tab, please,” Sam grinned. You rolled your eyes and sat down on the other side of Dean. He looked at you curiously, as if trying to figure out how you knew he was lying. You looked back with clear eyes, daring him to find something when you knew he wouldn’t.

“So (Your name),” he started, giving you another quick up-down glance that made you blush,” (Bestie) says she’s a college student nearby. I’m guessing you are, too?”

“Yeap,” you replied,” (Your major). I’ve got nearly all my hours and need only like two classes before I have my undergrad.”

“Nice!” he said with an air of genuine appreciation. “So a study girl like you, what are you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a sweeping gesture.

“It’s the end of Week One finals,” you laughed,” and (Bestie) needed a wingman.” He nodded and took a swig of his beer. You glanced at (Bestie). She was currently in between Sam’s knees, leaning in on the pretext of hearing him better. You laughed.

“What?” Dean asked, bring you attention back to him.

“Nothing,” you smiled. _Geez. His eyes are going to be the death of me,_ you thought. (Bestie) caught your eye again asking, “ _Is the target a go?_ ” You nodded slightly with a wry grin. Her eyes lit up as she turned back to Sam and shifted a little closer. Sam noticed and chuckled as he placed a large hand on her hip. I tuned back into Dean, exchange taking milliseconds.

“What was the nod for?” Dean asked. He’s more perceptive than I thought…..

“Again, nothing,” you grinned as you played with your straw. Dean leaned closer, making your breath catch a little as you met his eyes. _No way_ , you told yourself, _This is not happening….This kind of thing only happens in fanfiction I read…No way am I that lucky…… but then again…_

“Liar,” he grinned.

“Takes one to know one,” you said innocently.

“Hmm…” he grunted. His head cocked as he listened to the song that was playing.  


	2. I love this song!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops.. Doesn't this sound a little... fanfiction-y?
> 
> ;)
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Please comment (nicely) below!!  
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns N' Roses

Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses. That was one of your personal favorites. He glanced at his brother, who, at the moment, wasn't paying any attention outside of your best friend’s hips and lips. You both rolled your eyes at your respective wingmen.

       “Come dance with me,” Dean said, standing up and offering you a hand.

       “Umm… No thanks,” you blushed, suddenly interested in your two left feet.

       “C’mon! It’s Guns n’ Roses!”

       “I don’t dance,” you said quietly.

       “And?” Dean looked at you expectantly, hand still extended.

       “And…. I don’t dance. I can’t dance actually.” You defied, daring him to laugh. He did.

       “C’mon,” he said again,” I’ll do all the dancing.” Dean grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet. He was much taller than your petite five-two and he out bulked your buck-thirty-five, but you were stronger than you looked. Dean looked really surprised when you tugged his hand a brought him to a complete stop.

       “I. Don’t. Dance,” You said with slight panic as you tried to retrieve your hand. Dean, recovering, got a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped loser. You were stubborn and not one to back down from anything, you stood your ground and stared into his emerald eyes.

       “(Your name),” he quietly warned, “If you don’t come willingly, I’ll pick you up and carry you to the floor myself.” Threat and promise was equally laced into the growl. You suppressed a shudder and thought, stupidly, that he was bluffing. Surely, _surely,_ he wouldn't literally pick you up just to dance. You defiantly settled in your spot in an attempt to somehow make yourself weigh more in the possibility that he would try. He laughed.

       “You sure you wanna do that?”

In a last ditch effort pf defiance, you lifted your chin and said, “Just try me, buddy.”

He laughed again as he swooped down to pick you up off the ground. You yelped as he put your legs over one arm and supported your back with the other. You quickly threw your arms around his neck and gave him a startled glare. Dean had thick, strong arms. The short hairs on the back of his neck and head was pleasingly rough under your palms. A huge grin was plastered on his face and enjoyment lit up his eyes.

      “Put me down!” I shrieked without really protesting.

      “Nope. I warned you, didn’t I?” He laughed. He walked to the dance floor, carefully avoiding hitting people with your feet. A blush flamed over your face as people look at you both with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. He set you down on the edge of the dance floor so that you both could keep an eye on your wingmen. You regained your footing and moved to step away from Dean because you did NOT dance. Even if a super attractive man carried you to the floor…

Especially then… With your klutzy feet? Yeah, no. Was NOT going to happen.

Dean had other plans. When you moved, he put an arm around your waist, locking you against him, and grabbed your hand, placing it back around his neck. You rolled your eyes.

      “Dean. Seriously. I can’t dance. I’m too clumsy,” you chided, looking up and trying not to let the close proximity steal your breath too bad. You suddenly wished you had worn the tight red corset you had tucked in the back of your closet instead of your soft and loose-fitting Hard Rock Café t-shirt. He laughed as he looked down at you.

      “And I told you that I would do all the dancing, didn’t I?” he replied, slightly swaying. His arm suddenly tightened, lifting you up and even closer.

      “Dean!”

He set you down, gently, on his own feet. You could feel the steel-toe through your flats.

      “Wh-what are you doing?” you asked breathily, not because of his strong arm still tightly wrapped around your waist, but because you (and your body) realized just how tightly pressed your chest and hips were to his well-muscled and toned ones.

      “I’m dancing with you, what else?” he chuckled. He started to move his feet in time to the music. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as you blushed. You felt so tiny compared to him. You knew you were short and all (I mean you had to scale the counters like a rock wall when cooking sometimes because (Bestie) would put your pots up high), but you had never felt small and petite like you did quite literally surrounded by Dean.

      “Dean. Seriously?” you tried to say with an air of seriousness but your goofy grin ruined the intended effect. “I’m not a little girl at your brother’s wedding. You can’t just dance with me on your toes!”

Dean flinched slightly at the mention of “brother’s wedding”, which made you wonder what the story behind that was. His eyes revealed he didn’t care what you thought. Deeper, they showed that he was really attracted to you; more so than Dean, himself, expected and that worried him. Even deeper, sadness. Soul consuming sadness and regret. You cursed yourself and your fluke weirdo talent. You really should not have been wanting to comfort him like you wanted to. _I mean, you didn’t even know the slightest thing about him. He could be some sort of psychotic murderer, tag teaming with his brother to abduct willing victims._ Even as you thought that, you shut it down. Although you detected some instability, your “danger-dar”, as (Bestie) called it, didn’t sound any alarms. All that aside, you saw the sadness and couldn’t help but want to comfort him. _Curse you talent and insanely protective instincts._

      “Oh, I can’t?” he replied, snapping you out of your psycho-analysis. “Then what, exactly, you call this?” He spun you in a quick circle that made your breath catch. Your inner fangirl sighed and fanned herself. You laughed.

      “This? This is some random stranger forcibly holding a young woman captive on the pretext of dancing!”

Dean leaned in closer and whispered, “If I was holding you captive, why didn’t you struggle? Hmm?”

      “A little thing like me had no chance against a giant like you,” you replied innocently, looking up through your lashes.

      “Ha! I’m sure you’re a lot stronger than you look, sweetheart. I’ve seen your type before. You could do some damage, for sure, if you really wanted to,” Dean laughed. You shrugged neither confirming nor denying it but your eyes screamed “Hell yeah I could…”

The song ended and Dean stopped dancing. Neither of you relaxed. You just looked at each other, smiling. _So cliché_ , you brain scolded. You blinked and blushed, pulling back and off of Dean’s feet. You sneaked a peek up at him and realized he had pink coloring the tops of his cheeks. You both started walking back to the bar. It wasn’t until you went to hop up and sit down on the stool that you realized you were still holding Dean’s hand. Your fangirl shrieked in joy and your ration side simply groaned. You shook your head, blush flaming even darker across your face.

Sam and (Bestie) were talking again, which surprised you. The way they had been sucking face when you left, you the deal was sealed and she’d be gone with a quick explanation text. She caught your eye and you were even more shocked. The normal predatory, huntress gleam that usually invaded her eyes when with a target, wasn’t there. She blushed as she saw your shock and confusion. Oh yeah. When you guys got back and had time, this was going to be a good conversation.

Dean cleared his throat, “Well Sammy, I hate to admit it, but we have an early day tomorrow. We should probably go settle into the motel.” Sam looked sad and looked to (Bestie).

      “Dean’s right. We should probably get going,” he sighed. (Bestie) deflated a little. You did too, that is, until a brilliant idea stuck you.

      “Wait… you guys are staying in a motel?” you asked.

      “Yeah,” Dean warily replied, wondering why that was deemed important.

      “Well that’s just uncomfortable,” you said. You looked at (Bestie) to ask for permission. She looked confused.

      “Sometimes, but we do it a lot so we’re used to it,” Sam shrugged. (Bestie) looked at him, then Dean, then back at you. It ( _finally!_ ) clicked and she grinned, nodding at you.

      “Well…,” you said, smiling at Dean, “We do have a two-bedroom apartment with a pull-out couch and fully-stocked fridge.” Sam and Dean looked at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation with each other like you and (Bestie) would sometimes do. Dean shrugged minutely.

      “Thanks for the offer, but we’d really hate to impose,” Sam said, carefully.

      “Nonsense!” (Bestie) smiled, “We’ve got plenty of room and we’ve seen the motels around here. No bueno. Our place is way more comfortable.”

      “And there’s no sense in passing up free lodging when you guys have such limited funds,” you said, quietly, to Dean. He looked at you and tried again to figure out how you knew that. The boys looked at each other again. Sam looked hopeful and his hand twitched on (Bestie)’s side, asking from Dean to say yes. Dean looked at his little brother, then at you. He looked over your face and found nothing but carefully controlled hope and willingness to help. He seemed to go through a mental checklist. Satisfied, he grinned.

      “Well, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt, if you ladies honestly don’t mind,” he said and Sam let out a small relieved sigh.

      “Awesome!” you grinned, looking at (Bestie). Her face was lit up in a way you had never seen before. Rational you did a fake cough that sounded suspiciously like the word “cliché”.

      “So...,” you said reaching for you jacket and purse. You fished your keys out. “Dean, you’ll ride with me. Sam, just follow behind me in y’all’s car. So help me, if I don’t see my sister in the rearview, I WILL kill you.”

      “Woah, woah, hold up,” Dean said, “What are you talking about?” Before you could say anything, (Bestie) stepped in.

      “(Your name) has a strict policy about no drinking and driving. You had several beers and I had several drinks. She had soda and Sam only had one beer. She’ll make sure Sam is okay behind her and is making you ride with her so you don’t try to drive anyway,” she explained. You smugly smiled. _I’ve trained her so well_. “Plus, Sam will need me to get into the lot, so, I have to ride with him. Hence, the death threat. She’s a touch overprotective… and by a touch, I mean completely overboard. BUT with love and adoration because I’m the most important person in the world to her and she doesn’t want to hurt me!” she rushed out seeing your heatless glare. “I mean, see me hurt!” You laughed.

Dean harrumphed and looked at you. You held out your hand for his keys. You saw a gleam of admiration in his eyes paired with a look of surprise as he found himself reaching into his pocket and handing you his keys. You smiled innocently and reached up to pat the top of his head.

      “Good choice,” you praised as he rolled his eyes. Your gaze turned serious as you looked at Sam, “No joking, dude. She really is the most important person in my life. I will kill you and that’s a threat and a promise.” You held the keys out for Sam to take. Just before he grabbed them, you snatched them back.

      “Got it?” you asked, spearing him with a look that thoroughly pinned him to his spot. (Bestie) sighed and rolled her eyes. Dean chuckled at how such a tiny thing like you managed to cow his beast of a brother.

Sam nodded and stammered out, “Yeap, got it.” You handed the keys over and beamed a smile.

      “Good! Let’s go!” Dean chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist. You gave him a quick, shocked glance but didn’t move away. You weren’t used to this but it wasn’t like you didn’t love it. Sam did the same to (Bestie) and you all headed to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own the song and you know... the characters that aren't you and your best friend belong to CW's Supernatural :P


	3. Oops... Dean thought.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you're see way more than you should huh...
> 
> Enjoying it?
> 
> As always, please comment (nicely) below!!
> 
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Oh by the way!!!! This is a really long chapter (couldnt find a good place to split it up) so read this when you have time. Not like... between classes (guilty hahaha) or have somewhere you need need to be ;P)

“Which one is yours?” you asked Dean.

“That gorgeous Baby right there,” he said with pride and gestured to a glistening black ’67 Chevy Impala, gleaming in the bar neons. You let out an appreciative whistle.

“Damn. Nice!” you said. You weren’t necessarily a car freak, but you knew a lot about the ones you liked, “Is she all stock or pieced?” Dean looked at you with a sort of surprised amusement.

“Sadly, she’s pieced. Too many assholes have wanted to bang her up.” You nodded. “What about you?” he asked and bumped your shoulder. You grinned.

“Over here.” Yours was a 2010 black Chevy 1SS Camaro with cream leather interior. Dean whistled and you grinned like a child on Christmas. “He’s not an old classic but he’s perfect for me. He was an early graduation gift from my family when my trooper of an old Mitsubishi Mirage said good bye. I like classics but I love fast and, boy, does he fly!” you preened.

“He?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Each of my cars have had a different personality. Sir James, here, is named after the great James Bond. He’s stealthy and fast, devilishly handsome and has an air of sophistication about him. Too masculine to be a she,” you explained, unlocking the door and sliding into the seat. Dean’s fingers trailed up the hood as he made his way to his side. He ducked low to get in with a smile on his face.

“I’m not usually one for newer cars, but this one is mighty fine,” he said, eyes hungrily roving over the dash.

“Thanks,” you said with loving rub of the wheel. James purred to life and you turned the key and Dean settle into his seat. The Impala’s headlights peeked next to you, Sam was waiting for you to take the lead. His eyes, too, tracing the cars curves as you sleekly pulled out of the spot. You looked into the mirror constantly to make sure (Bestie) was okay and that Sam kept up.

You girls lived in a gated apartment complex seven minutes away from the bar. You pulled up to the guard booth and smiled when you realized old Mr. Joe was on duty. He was your friend and he kept an eye on you and (Bestie).

“Evening, Joe!” you rolled down your window.

“Evening, Miss (Your name). Who’s this punk you’ve got with ya?” he asked. He was sizing Dean up and you felt Dean stiffen and bristle beside you.

“Easy, Joe,” you laughed, “He’s a friend. He and his brother will be staying with us for a while.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry,” you added quietly, “they’re okay. They’ve passed all my tests so far.” Joe knew about your ability and trusted it ever since you helped him find out that his ex-wife was stealing his retirement check. He huffed.

“Well okay. I’ll give (Bestie) a pass to put in their car,” he nodded to the Impala behind you, “I’ll come and bring y’all some of Sarah’s blueberry scones tomorrow evening. She’s making you girl’s a special batch tomorrow.”

“Oh boy! Tell her I said that she is the most wonderful, amazing woman in the world and that I love her!” you said with a huge smile.

He laughed, “Flattery will get you everywhere with her.” He winked suggestively, “I should know!”

“Oh,” you pretended to gag, “Gross, Joe! Didn’t need that mental image!”

“Didn’t say you had to picture it!” he chortled, pressing the button for the gate to lift. You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks Joe! Have an easy evening.”

“Will do, Miss (Your name).” You drove through and Dean relaxed. Sam and (Bestie) stopped to get the pass and chit chat a little. You weren’t concerned anymore so you drove to your designated spot. Each apartment had three spots, which was good seeing as how there was now three cars staying at your place. You turned the car off and looked at Dean. You had to laugh at his expression.

“Chill, Dean. That was just Joe. He’s an old friend of my grandpa’s. He keeps an eye on (Bestie) and I, but he’s cool,” you explained, laying your hand on his. He looked a cross between just having seen a ghost and typical boyfriend-meeting-uptight-dad. He relaxed even more and smiled at you.

“He seemed pretty close to you and… I don’t know,” he said, “It made me nervous. Guys like him don’t usually take kindly to his charge bringing a guy like me home for an overnight stay.” You were weirdly touched. Somehow, Dean didn’t seem like the kind of guy that typically cared what people thought. He looked at you, confusion and shock at his own words coloring his eyes. As if…. _As if he surprised himself with that reaction. Hmm._ Sam and (Bestie) pulled in next to you. You snapped out it and hopped out and headed around the car. Dean got out and you hit the lock button on the key fob. James beeped a goodnight.

Sam popped the trunk of the Impala and Dean trotted to the back to join him. You sidled up to help carry whatever. Dean noticed you next to him.

“Oh. It’s okay, (Your name). We’ve got it. Go on ahead,” he said. You looked up at him. He was trying to hide something. You grinned and turned as if you were going to walk back to (Bestie). You snuck a peek into the trunk. Three duffle bags, two soft and lumpy, clothes most likely, and the third was hard with various shaped and sized items in it. At the top, just underneath the fabric, was the outline of a gun. You stopped dead. You hand twitched to you purse where you kept your knife. Nothing huge, but lethal in your hands. Call it a self-defense hobby.

“(Bestie),” you called out,” Would you be a doll and go on and make sure Sebastian is in his cage?” To her credit, she didn’t react at all. ‘Sebastian’ was your code word for her to get to safety and if you didn’t give her the safe word within ten minutes, she’d call the police.

“Yeap. On it,” she said, smiling, and glanced from you to the boys and then back. She silently tapped a finger on her purse, asking if you had your knife. You nodded and she turned to go to the elevator.

“Sebastian?” Dean asked, slightly uneasy, glancing at Sam, who smirked. You laughed.

“Oh yeah. I guess I should have told you about my Great Dane,” you lied smoothly with an innocent smile, “Sorry. Don’t worry, he’s a big lover. The cage is more for your comfort.”

“Right. Okay. Fine,” Dean shifted uneasily, indicating that it was, in fact, not okay.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously something.”

Sam sighed and smiled, “Dean doesn’t like dogs. Especially big dogs.”

“Oh! I’m sorry! He’ll stay in my room all night. He doesn’t make a sound, so you won’t even know he’s there. Promise,” you said, sounding genuinely concerned, “Just one thing though.” The tightening of you voice made Sam and Dean snap to attention. You noticed Dean tensed and Sam glanced around as if to clear the area. _Efficient. They’ve got some practice in walking into a fight_.

“Don’t shoot him with one of the many guns or stab him with one of the multiple daggers you have hidden in the duffle bag to Sam’s far right side of the trunk… if he startles you,” you said, hand tightening of the hilt of your knife, muscles bunching and preparing to launch if you of them even so much as thought to make a move.

Surprise and extreme shock blasted into their faces and eyes. _Too genuine and too quick of a reaction to be faked_ , you noted. Raised heart rates. Shock frozen muscles. Your eyebrows crunched together. Seven minutes before (Bestie) called the cops. Sam recovered and started to move. You dropped into a ready stance with a growl and unsheathed your knife. He stepped back and raised his hands in a submissive manner, surprise still etched into every feature of his face. Dean took the cue and slowly stepped back, hands raised, to join his brother.

“Explain,” you growled. Dean moved his hand.

“Ah ah...” He stopped.

“I’m just going to show you my tattoo,” he said, carefully, “It’s on my left shoulder. I’m just going to pull my collar down.” His hand moved again, slowly reaching for his shirt collar and tugging it down. Rational you noted the tribal star and sun design. Fangirl you noted his extremely built chest. Five minutes.

“It’s an anti-possession tattoo. Sammy’s got one, too,” he explained.

“Anti-possession? Like…demons?” you asked as he released the shirt.

“Yes. We are people called Hunters. You see, and please don’t think we’re too insane,” he pleaded, genuinely caring about what you thought, “all the monsters you were told about growing up, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, witches, demons, they all exist. Those and many more. My brother and I… Well, we were raised in a life of saving people by hunting these things.”

Four minutes.

“The weapons in the bag are what we use to hunt, capture, and gank these monsters.” He glanced at Sam, who nodded, “We’re gonna step back. You can step up to the trunk. There’s a combination lock in the bottom that Sammy’s already unlocked. Lift up the door and pick up the leather journal sitting on top.” They eased back and you eased forward.

You found the journal and quickly glanced through it. Inside were drawings and notes about various creatures, first in one hand writing and then in two alternating hand writings. You looked back at Dean, who had put his hands down. Hands loose, making no effort to defend or attack.

“We’re not here to hurt you, I promise.”

Two minutes, thirty seconds.

“The murder in town… We think it’s the work of a werewolf. We came to keep it from killing again. Please believe me,” he begged. _He said believe, not trust_. You stood your ground, accessing them. Stood down but far from relaxed. Calm. Used to high pressure situations. Haunting in the backs of their eyes. Steady hands and looking you squarely in the eyes. Concern and a glimmer of hope mixing in the pleading look of their faces. Honest. Holding absolutely nothing back.

One minute.

You reached for your purse. Dean flinched and you gave a hearty growl. He backed up another step, hands up again. You hit (Bestie)’s speed-dial.

“(Your name),” she sighed, answering on the first ring. You eyed the boys again, not relaxing the hand holding the knife. You took a deep breath.

“Vatican cameos,” you said quietly, using the safe word from a certain favorite television show, “But make sure Seb still has water in his bowl, please.” You heard (Bestie) sigh.

“Thank God,” she sounded relieved, “Are they still…. You know… okay?”

“Yeah, go ahead. The canned food is fine…”

“They still staying with us?”

“When he’s done, put him in my room. Dean’s jumpy around dogs, so Seb will stay under my watch.”

“Okay. You want me to load and hide your pistol?”

“Yes please. Oh hey, are you near the bookshelf?”

“Gotcha. It’s behind your Sherlock Holmes collection.”

“Awesome. Grab my bottle of bourbon from the top shelf. Now that I’m home, it seems silly that I’m the only one without any alcohol in their system,” you chuckled, “We’ll be up in a minute. Just helping the boys with their crap.”

“Okie dokie.” The line clicked dead. Sam had an amused look on his face. Dean’s was a look of guarded caution.

“Don’t move,” you instructed in a firm and commanding voice without the venomous growl it had earlier. The boys nodded and Dean put his hands at his sides again. You ears remain locked on them as you turned to inspect the items in the trunk again. It was a chaotic mess that made you cringe. Papers, weapons, bags of herbs and other stuff. It was a rather impressive collection. You and a friend back home shared an affinity for weapons and combat. As a boredom buster, you guys had taught yourselves self-defense and a little weapons training. You also, like the nerdy bookworm you were, researched many types of fighting styles and weapon lore. You picked up a mason jar filled with a thick, dark red substance. You held it up and gave the boys a questioning look.

“Dead man’s blood,” Sam replied.

“It’s a vamp tranquilizer,” Dean added. You put it back. You picked up a long jagged dagger with symbols carved into the blade. Well balanced. Often used. Too large for your hands but you could throw it with deadly accuracy.

“Demon blade,” Dean said, leaning slightly to see what you were doing, “One of the few things that actually kill them.” You set that back down with wince as you realized that the dark gunk caked into the grooves where the blade met hilt, was in fact, demon blood. You looked at the rest of the jumbled items and turned back to the boys. Sam was relaxed but curious. He wondered how you were going to react. Dean… Dean looked like a child waiting to be scolded for breaking his mom’s favorite vase. It was cute. _Stop that_ , you scolded yourself. You were supposed to be hard, lethal and cautious. Not softening and letting curiosity get the better of you. Speaking of cautious…

You’re alarm bells weren’t going off. You were on edge but it was fading like that jolt of adrenaline you get when you clumsily drop a knife while cooking and you jerk your toes out of the way before they accidentally get chopped off. Dean looked up and met your eyes.

Your breath caught as you noted how bright the green was. You hid your expression.

“(Nickname)?” he started. You raised an eyebrow. “(Your name), what are you thinking?” You thought for a moment as you decided how you wanted to play things out.

“I’m wondering what Sam found so amusing a few minutes ago when he should have been concerned at the fact that he was in danger of getting a knife embedded in his chest,” you said, pegging Sam under a glare. His amusement faded a little.

“I… ah…” he stuttered, “I was just noticing how you used ‘Vatican cameos’ as your safe word.” He flashed a grin. “It made me wonder what your distress signal had been and how on Earth a girl like (Bestie) managed not to show a single reaction.” You applauded the boys’ ability to pick up on things.

“If you must know, it’s because we are no stranger to dangerous situations. Those are stories to either save for drunken reminiscing or to be never see the light of day again,” you replied, face showing nothing. You weren’t lying. Because of your… ability, trouble seemed to follow you and, in turn, (Bestie). Since starting college, when your abilities became evident as something more than just a nosey keenness, you had saved (Bestie) from several high-danger situations. She, in turn, was the one who bailed you out, literally and figuratively, when your talent got you in trouble. But again, most of those stories you wanted to forget and never remember. Snapping back to the present, you realized Dean was looking at you funny.

“Take a picture, Winchester, it’ll last longer,” you snapped. You turned and closed the compartment in the bottom of the trunk. You grabbed the weapons duffle and turned to the boys, slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“So here’s how it’s gonna go,” you said, putting your knife hand on your popped hip, “I’ll carry these and any other weapons you feel the need to bring in, You guys are still staying here, so don’t worry about accommodations. Grab your other stuff and we will continue this chat inside. Okay?” Sam smiled and said okay. Dean’s shoulders visibly lost tension and his eyes flooded with relief. Not relief that he didn’t have to leave, but relief that you hadn’t rejected him or though him to be completely insane. They added a pearl-handled pistol and the demon blade to your bag and scooped up their duffels. Together, you headed to the elevator.


	4. Heart-to-Hearts: Take one!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well that went smoothly didn't it?  
> How will your best friend react?
> 
> Hope you're liking this!! 
> 
> Remember, comment (nicely) below!!  
> XOXO  
> Crowley'sOwnTemptress

Once inside the elevator, you turned to Sam, who tensed.

“Easy, Moose,” you smiled. Dean barked a laugh. Sam threw him a high level bitch-face and you pegged him with a look of curiosity because it honestly hadn’t been that funny. Maybe his tension was running a little overboard. You shrugged and turned back to Sam.

“(Bestie) knows just about as much as I do. When we get to the apartment, you are going to tell her everything Dean told me, got it? No holding back. She may seem fragile but trust me when I say that after handling me for so many years, nothing fazes her.”

He relaxed a little, “You sure? Not a lot of people handle hearing the monsters under their bed are real as well as you seem to be…” You shot him your version of a bitch-face.

“Do I seem like the type of person who would tell you to tell someone something, knowing they couldn’t handle it?” You inwardly cringed and face-palm’ed. Good with words, you were not. Dean chuckled.

“No. No, I guess you wouldn’t,” Sam said, a nervous smile playing at his lips. The doors dinged and opened. You lead the way down the hall and when you neared your door, you placed the blade of you knife, which had still been in your hand, between your teeth and pulled your keys out of your back pocket. You caught Dean’s eyes. He gave you quick up-n-down glance and his pupils dilated slightly. You cheeks went a nice shade of scarlet. The door swung open and you ushered the boys inside.

“(Bestie) will stay in my room with me. You guys can fight over who gets the bedroom and who get the pull-out,” you grinned.

“Dibs on the room!” Sam yelled before Dean could get it out.

“No, I’m older. I get the room!” Dean argued, looking at you for confirmation. You laughed.

“Don’t look at me! The rule of ‘Dibs’ is life in this house! Besides, I’m the younger one,” you winked. Dean shut his jaw with a click and Sam looked smug.

“My bedroom is down this hall, door to the left. Door to the right is my bathroom,” (Bestie) explained with a smile. Sam thanked her warmly and moved to take his stuff to his temporary room. You pointedly cleared your throat. Sam sheepishly looked from you to (Bestie). (Bestie), confused, looked from Sam to you.

“Ah, (Bestie)? Actually, can I talk to you for a few minutes?” he asked nervously.

“Um, sure?” she said, silently asking you if it was safe. You winked at her and her face gained a hopeful gleam. He wasn’t armed and you felt that he couldn’t hurt her even if he tried. You watched them walk down the hall. The fangirl inside squealed _“I ship it!”_ You chuckled to yourself and turned back to Dean.

“Her momma’s gonna kill me,” you laughed. He smiled and set his stuff on the floor behind the couch.

“Why?”

“’Cause I have a feeling that I’m going to wake up alone tomorrow. And if I don’t that’ll be worse,” you smiled and walked over to the kitchen. Dean followed.

“And that’s supposed to make sense to me?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“It will,” you said cryptically, setting the duffel of weapons on the table and moving to the counter where (Bestie) had set out your favorite bourbon and glass. You poured yourself a generous amount.

“Want some?” you asked, spying Dean eyeing the bottle.

“I’ve never seen that kind… and I’ve seen a lot of booze,” he said stepping closer.

“It’s rare. Only one person makes it and he usually doesn’t sell more than a bottle or two. I helped him when I was vacationing down in Louisiana for Mardi Gras. Since then, he sends me a bottle every Mardi Gras season,” you said, sipping at the warm liquid. You offered him your glass. He took it and inhaled it as he gave it an expert’s swirl. Seemingly satisfied, he took an experimental sip. He made a funny face and immediately handed the glass back to you and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s…….that’s… wow!” he said, giving the bottle an evil glare.

“Should have warned you that it doesn’t taste like normal bourbon,” you laughed, sipping again, “Very few people like it. I didn’t think I would, but I love it! (Bestie) hates it and my other friend, Travis, can only handle a few sips before he puts it down.”

“Yeah, I can see why. That stuff is terrible. And that’s coming from someone who will drink anything.” You playfully slapped his arm.

“There’s beer in the fridge,” you offered, pointing to the appliance behind him. He grunted and immediately grabbed one and took a swig.

“Much better.” You rolled your eyes and glanced at the clock on the stove. It had been more than a few minutes. You stood up and walked down the hall. Dean trailed after you, chuckling at what was in store for his little brother. You stopped and put an ear to the door. Nothing. Not a sound. No talking, which is what should have been happening. No _other noises_ , which you had half-expected. You threw the door open, unceremoniously, gearing up to ask Sam just what the hell he thought he was doing.

The words died on your lips. Instead, you smirked. Dean peeked over your shoulder and chuckled.

(Bestie) was curled up at the top of her bed, back to the headboard and facing Sam. Sam was on his stomach diagonally, face about a foot away from (Bestie)’s, bare feet hanging off the opposite corner of the bed. Both fully clothed, both sound asleep. You stepped back, running into Dean. Your face went red and he stepped back to let you back out of the room and gently close the door.

“I’ll get her later,” you chuckled quietly.

“My brother can be such a chick sometimes,” he scoffed lovingly, just as quietly. His eyes locked on your lips. Your breath caught and you couldn’t help but glide your tongue over them as you eyed his. Your gaze roamed up to meet his eyes and locked. You noticed that his pupils were dilated again. He made an unconscious, minute movement towards you.

_HELLO!_ your brain yelled, _Duffle bag o’ weapons on le kitchen table and claiming a werewolf hunt!_ You jerked away realizing you had leaned in closer. Oh yeah. Interrogation. You had forgotten. You laughed awkwardly and caught the slightest hint of hurt and disappointment in those emerald greens. That really shouldn’t have made your chest flutter painfully and guilt creeped up your throat. Fangirl you had a smug look and quietly said “ _I ship it._ ”

“Well…” you said stepping back and clearing your throat, “I still have some questions for you.” You turned on your heels and started down the hallway, discarding your flats on the way. You heard Dean sigh and then follow a second later. You walked back to the kitchen and picked up your glass, taking a sip that was bigger than a sip. You hopped up to sit on the counter. Dean slipped his boots off in the living room. He grabbed his beer from the table and leaned casually on the counter across from you.

“So…” Dean said, “What questions do you have for me?” You thought for a second and took a sip.

“I guess I just have one,” you said decidedly.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeap.”

“And?”

“What’s your story? Beginning to current. No lies, ‘cause I’ll know,” you tapped your temple, “Don’t clean it up. Give me good, bad and ugly. I promise I won’t laugh too much or judge too hard.”

“It’s a long dark story, (Nickname). I’m pretty sure you really don’t want to hear it,” he said as he nervously picked at the label of his bottle.

“Okay? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know… Dean, I can tell it’s not a good story by the way it haunts your eyes, but I need to know. Especially if you’re going to be staying here and I’m going to be joining in on the hunt AND your little brother is shacking up with my sister,” you say, taking another sip. You could feel the buzz finally settling comfortably in the very back of your mind. His head snapped up.

“Who said you would be joining the hunt?” he challenged.

“Um, yeah. That would be ah me?” you snorted.

“No,” he said simply and took a drink.

“Dean, I wasn’t asking. My town. My neck of the woods. I’m going to either help in a way that works or help in a way that I will invariably get myself into some sort of trouble. Your choice,” you smirked and leaned back against the cabinets.

“I’ll lock you in your apartment if you try,” he threatened.

“I’ll get out,” you sing-songed.

“I’ll tie you up.”

“Tempting, but I would still get out.”

“Not if I do the tying.”

“Wanna bet?” He hid a very suggestive look. Even your inner fangirl blushed. You cleared your throat.

“Dean. I rival Houdini. Getting out of restraints was one of the first things I thought myself.” He chuckled. “Bottom line is, either you involve me and teach me or I’ll tail you, learn my own way, and knowing my luck, I will probably find myself in a rather inescapable situation by being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you said with a smug look. He looked into your face searching to see just how serious you were. Whatever he saw must’ve convinced him.

“Fine,” he growled, “But you will do what I say, when I said it. No questions, no arguing, no delay. Got it?” You snorted.

“I’m fifty-one percent sure I can do that,” you grinned.

“(Your name), I’m serious. You want to do this, you follow my lead. I’m not gonna let you get k-… hurt,” he stumbled.

“I won’t get killed. You underestimated me, Winchester. That I am a hundred percent sure of,” you grinned. You took another sip and was surprised that you had a little under half of what you poured left.

“Now that we got that settled, get on with your story.” He sighed at your persistence. He pegged you with a look. Unfazed, you took that as a free opportunity to read him again. His eyes held so much more than most ordinary people’s, it captivated you. They held amusement at your antics. Awe at your willingness to jump into the unknown. Worry that you might be hurt, though you didn’t know why. Why should he care? You get met him a little under two hours ago. There was pain there in deep greens. A constant ache of grief. One that you knew didn’t ever really go away. It made you want to put a hand on his cheek and chase it away. Wait. Where did that come from? For such a hard-ass, as people so eloquently put it, you were certainly getting a case of the softies for this man. He sighed.

“Well… If I’m going to tell you our story, I’m going to need another one of these,” he gestured to the half-empty beer bottle, “and something more comfortable under my ass.”

Dean pushed off the counter and you hopped down, careful not to slosh any of your remaining drink. You ended up landing against Dean’s side as he reached into the fridge, which knocked him into the fridge door, which knocked (Bestie)’s glass bottled Starbuck’s to the floor. You, of course, tried to hop away from the awkwardness of being pressed against Dean and… well…

Your luck was dumb and you had clumsiness from hell……


	5. Bloodshed!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well he was going to tell you...  
> Then your clumsiness happened....
> 
> Enjoying it??
> 
> Remember to comment (nicely) below!!  
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

True to your clumsy self, you stepped hard onto the coffee covered glass shards that covered the floor.

“Sonova Bitch!” you exclaimed loudly and jumped back on one foot until you plopped your rear end on the table. Blood was already pooling on the floor.

“(Your name)!” Dean slammed the fridge closed and hopped comically over the broken glass.

“Towel. In the drawer next to the sink,” you grunted, lifting your foot up to prop the outer edge against the inside of your left thigh, giving you access to the bottom. A towel was shoved into your line of vision. You heard (Bestie)’s door slam open.

“Damn… Thanks, Dean,” you said, taking the towel, “(Bestie), on your way in here, grab the first aid kit, please.” You heard her jog back to her bathroom.

“Put pressure on it,” Dean ordered, worry and control locking his voice into an odd pitch.

“Dean, I’m fine. Go into the living room,” you soothed.

“No, let me help,” he argued and reached for the towel to apply pressure himself.

“I got it, Dean. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this,” you chuckled, gritting your teeth as the glass still embedded in your foot started to ache.

“Aww! I was really looking forward to that coffee!” (Bestie) whined as she handed you the first aid kit. Sam and Dean gave her an odd look at her lack of concern for her best friend sitting on the table bleeding profusely from her foot. You couldn’t help but laugh, which made them turn that look on to you.

“Sorry, (Bestie). Let me make it up to you by bleeding out through my foot. That make it better?” you joked, digging the tweezers out of the kit.

“No. Not even close,” she replied, pushing past a frozen Dean to get another towel the pick up the glass.

“Dean, be a doll and hand me my drink, please?” you instructed, half afraid if he didn’t move soon, he’d be stuck that way, and half because you knew it was going to like a bitch to get the remaining glass out.

“Uhhh….,” Dean frantically scanned the room. He spied it, hopped over the glass, grabbed the glass, hopped back and handed it to you. You took it being careful not to brush his hand with your, now bloody, fingers.

“Thanks.” You downed the remainder of the bourbon and set to work.

“What the hell happened?” asked Sam, who had joined (Bestie) on the floor to help clean up blood and coffee. Dean started to explain. You took a deep breath. You picked the largest piece and focused on it. The moment your tweezers touched it, pain rocketed up leg. You counted to three, and yanked of out.

“Sonova! Ow! Yeap! That did NOT feel good…” you yelled/growled. Dean cut off and his hand fluttered over your back and arm, wanting to help or comfort you but not wanting to part with a limb.

“(Your name), let me help,” he pleaded, holding a hand out for the tweezers. Your look was bordering on murderous.

“I said. I’ve got it. Dean.” You instantly felt bad. You hadn’t meant to snap at him. “Sorry.” His eyes softened.

“It’s okay. Sam’s the same way when he’s hurt.”

“Liar!” Sam protested from the floor, “I have to tie your hands behind your back whenever I give you stitches so you don’t punch me… Again…” Dean rolled his eyes. You were concentrating on your foot again. You quickly (and with minimal cursing) removed the rest of the shards. You cleaned up the area, put a few neat and tidy stitches into the deeper gashes. Dean watched as you swiped an alcohol pad over it and applied a little numbing ointment before wrapping you wrapped your foot in thick, clean gauze. (Bestie) and Sam finished cleaning up the blood, coffee and glass.

“Good job, (Nickname). You broke your record. You went two whole weeks without a blood-drawing accident,” (Bestie) laughed. Dean gave you a surprised look.

“What? I said I was clumsy,” you shrugged,” Thanks for cleaning up, guys.”

“No problem,” they said in unison and they blushed. You and Dean laughed. Your head was buzzing from the blood loss and booze, you gingerly slid off the table, careful not to use your right foot. Dean’s hand shot out and landed on your waist when you wobbled. Now it was y’all’s turn to blush, while the others laughed.

“Well…” you said, clearing you throat, “that would be my cue to go and put pj’s on.” You started to hop away using the furniture and walls as balancing surfaces.

“(Your name), stop. I’m helping you this time. No arguing,” Dean said, slipping a hand around your waist and ducking to pull your arm around his neck.

“Fine,” you grumbled, decidedly _not_ letting yourself notice how good it felt to have his sturdy arm around you, big, firm hand resting on you hip. You heard (Bestie) and Sam start talking in the kitchen, taking up your recently vacated spots. You hopped down your hall with surprising speed. Dean laughed as he struggled to keep up but not overtake you, which was quite a feat considering your height difference made you take about three hops for every one of his steps.

“Shuddup,” you tried to grumble, but you broke out into giggles. After what seemed like forever, you finally reached your door. Dean hesitated briefly and tightened his hand on your waist, smile dropping a bit.

“Dean, chill. I’m almost positive this isn’t the first time you’ve been to a girl’s room,” you laughed and threw the door open wide enough for the both of you. Dean flinched and then looked warily confused. He was all tensed up as if he expected an attack.

“Dean? What’s wr-- oh!” It clicked. You busted out laughing. Before too long, your sides were hurting and you were gasping for breath. Poor Dean looked more confused than ever.

“Dean, sweetheart,” you said through giggles, “There’s no dog. I promise. Sebastian was my trigger word.” You laughed even more as relief flooded the greens and he just about melted into a pool on the floor. He gave a relieved laugh and adopted a mischievous mock angry look. Before you could brace yourself, he pushed you over and landed with an un-graceful thud on your bed.

“Hey! You big jerk!” she laughed, sitting up.

“You little bitch,” he laughed, leaning on the door frame. You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself to the edge of you bed. Dean, realizing that it probably wasn’t the smartest move to push you onto the bed, immediately went to help you stand back up. You laughed and brushed him off.

“Dean, I’m good. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve had to get around on one foot,” you said.

“Nonsense. Here let me help,” he protested. You stood up carefully, not putting your injured foot down. In retaliation of him pushing you down and then not listening as you told him you were good, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder…and shoved him. You laughed as he fell, only slightly more graceful than you, onto your bed. You quickly hopped out of reach to chest of drawers that held all the clothes you didn’t have to hang. You leaned against it and looked over at Dean, who was making himself comfortably reclined.

“You gonna step out and give me privacy or are you going to be a nosy perv and watch me?” you smiled. You didn’t really care either way. You were self-conscious about your size. You had a little more curve-age than most girls your height and after battling many years of being the target of fat jokes, you weren’t really confident in yourself; however, years of being in marching band, the land of quick changes in large groups and tight spaces, had made you okay with changing in front of people and you had become a master at being able to change completely without any major flashing. Dean smiled.

“Someone’s got to make sure you don’t fall and hurt yourself more,” he answered. You rolled your eyes and turned to the drawers. You pulled out your favorite ‘Hogwarts’ lounge pant (with pockets) and an old grey cami, long since retired from day-wear because of the large hole your thumb put in the back hem of it when you pulled it down. You hopped to your desk chair where you set your pjs. You braced you hip on the desk and pulled you shirt and current cami off.

You felt Dean’s eyes on you and your cheeks turned bright red. You glanced in the mirror on the closet door as you unfolded your sleep shirt. Yeap. He was staring appreciatively with dilated pupils. You shivered and you swore to yourself it was just because the air had just kicked on and brushed over the uncovered tops of your breasts. He caught you catching him and he cleared his throat and looked pointedly away. You laughed. You left your bra on as you pulled the cami on. You didn’t go braless around people unless you had known them for at least a year. Now came the fun part. You eyed your pants and briefly considered sleeping in your jeans.

“Need some help?” Dean asked, sounding a little gruff. You inner fangirl winked at you as she put the thought into your mind about what could make him sound like that. You blushed darker, feeling it start to reach to your ears.

“Nope. Just planning,” you smiled at him over your shoulder. You laughed when you realized he was making effort to look only at your face. So much so, he face seemed to be angled as if he was looking slightly above your head. You started undoing your pants and Dean closed his eyes and leaned back as if he was relaxing to take a nap. You took your chance to observe him. The way he was reclined had pushed his shirt up so you could see a strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and the top of his boxers that peeked above his jeans. He has one of those muscular “v”’s that made girls (and some guys) drool on Tumblr. You hadn’t really thought that a guy could be _that_ in shape. You shook the thought of running your fingers over it just to see if the muscle was hard and toned. _Yeah, fingers_ , your fangirl scoffed. Rational you was quiet and even she couldn’t help but enjoy the view. You snapped out of it.

You worked you jeans down over your butt (thankful you had the idea to wear cute underwear today) and started working them over your folded flamingo leg. You wobbled and then fell against the drawers behind you. You grunted and Dean’s eyes flew open and blushed at your predicament.

“You okay?”

“Yeap,” you grunted, you decided it would be best to just use the drawers as back support. You didn’t look up. You were even redder than before. You gingerly plucked your bandaged foot out of the pant leg and shimmied the rest of the fabric down your other leg. You smiled at the challenge in front of you. How, exactly should one go about out of jeans and into pjs on one foot? Dean chuckled as you weighed your options.

“I’m here to help,” he reminded. You stuck your tongue out at him and he laughed.

“Aha!” you exclaimed. You grabbed your lounge pants and pooled them onto the floor in front of you. You bent down and pushed the fabric around until the correct leg had a clear path to the hardwood underneath it.

“Nice,” Dean commented. You laughed because he thought he has guessed what you were about to do. You looked up and he jerked his face to the ceiling, face beet red. Oh…. He hadn’t been looking at what you were doing. He had been checking out your butt and hadn’t meant to comment out loud. You blushed darker and tried to ignore the tingling sensation on your butt as you imagined his eyes tracing it. You tried to ignore what that was doing to your various lady parts. You stood up and place your hands on the back of the chair to steady yourself.

“(Your name), that’s not really a-“ You hopped, foot managing to escape the jeans and land almost perfectly in the lounge pants. You grinned and wiggled your foot so it was flat.

“-good idea,” Dean finished, “Guess I was wrong.” He chuckled. You smiled triumphantly as you pulled your pants up and guided your injured foot through the loose fabric. You ran a brush through your hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Dean sat up as you hopped to the door.

“Forgetting something?” he grinned, eyeing your shoulder where your bra strap was obvious.

“Not a chance,” you said, smugly, and hopped across the hall to your bathroom. Dean followed to see what you were doing. You popped some ibuprofen to fend off the growing soreness in your foot.

“Escort me to the living room?” you asked, smiling up at Dean.

“Why?” he asked with confusion invading his eyes.

“You still have a story to tell,” you replied immediately. He rolled his eyes.

“Persistent, are you?”

You laughed.

“Fine,” he sighed with a smile.


	6. Heart-to-Hearts: Take two!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aw!!! Protective!Dean and sexual tension!!! That was sweet!!!  
> But you still don't know too much about him...
> 
> I hope you are enjoying this because I know I am:)
> 
> As always, theres a space below to tell me what you think. Use it please :D  
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTempress

He suddenly bent down and swooped you off your feet as he picked you up for the second time tonight. You squealed and threw your arms around his neck. He chuckled.

“You really need to stop doing that,” you said breathily. Dean just smiled as he walked down the hall. You shifted a little so you could see where Sam and (Bestie) were. Dean’s breath caught.

“Oops! Sorry, did I hurt you?” you asked, thinking you had pinched a nerve in his shoulder when you moved or something.

“No, you’re good,” he said, tightly. You eyed him carefully. You opened your senses more. Sam and (Bestie) were laughing in the kitchen. You heard Dean’s breathing speed up a little, his heartbeat was slightly elevated. You noticed the goose-bumps had erupted on his neck and his eyes were a little wider than they had been. It clicked and you held back the urge to giggle like a school girl. Your hands had shifted in his hair when you moved. He apparently liked that. You grinned a smile worthy of your inner fangirl.

“Papasan chair, please,” you directed when you guys got to the living room. He set you down gently and you shifted so that you were semi on your side, injured foot on top.

“Crap,” you muttered, looking around you.

“What?” Dean asked, stepping back up to you.

“Nothing. I thought my blanket was in here. Guess I left it in my room.”

“Oh. Which one? I’ll go get it,” Dean offered.

“No, it’s cool. I’m fine. Thank you, though,” you smiled. He just gave you his version of a bitch-face. You sighed, “Fine. Black and white zebra one, with fleece on the backside.” He walked back and returned with your favorite blanket and a pillow. You took them and stuffed the pillow under your side and splayed the blanket over your legs.

“Need anything else?” Dean asked.

“Not from you,” you grinned, “Sit.” He sat down on the side of the couch closest to you.

“(Bestie),” you called out.

“Yeah?”

“Can you bring me a can of Sprite and a cup of ice, por favor? Oh, and a beer for Dean?”

“Yes, mas’sah,” she replied and you chuckled. Sam came out and sat on the other end of the couch. (Bestie) came out and handed you your cup and can and Dean, his bottle.

“It’s story time,” you told her.

“Oh boy!” she smiled and gave a little clap. She bounded to her recliner and sat down, “Whose story?”

“Sam and Dean’s,” you said smugly, popping open your drink. Sam looked at Dean who shrugged and sheepishly grinned.

“Wait!” (Bestie) laughed and bolted up. The three of you waited as she changed clothes and came back with a cup of sweet tea and a blanket and curled up in her recliner.

“Okay, ready,” she laughed and looked at Dean expectantly. He sighed and looked at his brother, who shrugged as if to say ‘you take the lead.’

He told their entire story.

About the fire that killed their mom and what the cause was. About how they lost their dad. All their adventures. Sam would chip in to insert a detail here and there, correct his brother, explain when either of you girls looked confused, or to give his perspective on certain parts. You tear’ed up when they got to sad parts, like Jo and Ellen and Bobby. You laughed when they told you about how the Archangel, Gabriel (yeah, no shit. Angels were real.), locked them into a TV Land and when Sam’s luck went south when they were getting their dad’s cursed rabbit foot back. They held nothing back, telling about Sam had been addicted to demon blood for a while and had almost died trying to close the gates of Hell, and how Dean had been to Hell and Purgatory and, until recently, was a full-blown demon (that had been an interesting story).

It was midnight by the time they had finished with how they were here because they had tracked a werewolf pack here and were going to try to find and stop them before the next full moon, three days from now. It was a lot to take in. You sat there and just took the boys in. All the sadness and grief and hardness that haunted their eyes made perfect sense. Who wouldn’t be messed up after all that these boys had been through? They seemed to be handling it, though. At the expense of their livers, but still. You looked at (Bestie).

She was exhausted but attentive. She was looking at Sam with a look you had only seen a few times before. A look that, until now, had been reserved for her parents, her brother and his daughter, and you, when y’all were having a chick flick moment. It was love, pure and simple. If someone had told you a week ago that your wild and crazy soul-sister would tamed by a nerdy moose of a man, you would’ve laughed in their face. It made sense though. You smiled to yourself and made a mental note to pull Sam aside and give him the death threat to top all death threats.

You glanced at him. He knew (Bestie) was looking at him but he couldn’t meet her eyes. From what you could tell, it was fear that kept his head down. Fear of rejection, fear of being called crazy, fear of how much he was growing to care for this wild vixen in front of him. Ultimately, it was the fear that something would happen to her. You could see it. The ghosts of all the women that had been precious and important to him in the past. You watched as he peeked up. You smiled again as you saw every thought clear from his head and his mouth twitch into a grin.

You couldn’t look at Dean. You felt his piecing gaze, begging for you to look at him. You could feel his tension and worry rolling off him in waves. You couldn’t. If you looked, you’d fall. No. You couldn’t. Not again. Besides, Dean would be gone in a week anyways. Your smile fell. You returned your attention back to your cup. He’d be gone. More monsters to hunt, more people to save. More women to tempt his attention. That made you more sad and angry in way that you couldn’t really explain or justify. That scared you.

You plastered a fake smile to your face and looked up when you felt (Bestie) look at you. You faked a yawn.

“Well….,” you said stretching your arms over your head to pop your shoulders and back, “I think that’s enough excitement for today.” You moved to get up and heard Dean shift next to you. You ignored him. You turned and picked up your blanket and pillow. On second thought, you laid them back down on the chair. You don’t know why, but you did. You gingerly put your injured foot down. Between the numbing ointment, thick gauze, and pain killers, the pain was tolerable enough that you could step using just the heel. You looked at (Bestie). She was confused at the tightness in your eyes.

“(Bestie)? Will you set up the couch? There are clean sheets in the dryer,” you asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled.

“Cool, thanks.” You limped down the hall.

“Oh, wait!” you paused and turned back around, “should I even ask if you’re sleeping with me tonight?” You winked suggestively at Sam while avoiding Dean’s eyes. (Bestie) laughed and looked at Sam who smiled and shrugged.

“Sorry, babe. My attentions are otherwise occupied tonight,” she replied, looking at Dean and back at you.

_You okay?_ she added silently.

_Yeah. Tired._

_Don’t lie._

_(Bestie). Drop it._

_No. We’re talking about this._

You sighed.

_I’ll be there in a few,_ she ended the conversation.

“Okay,” you said out loud, in reply to both the sleeping arrangement and her threat/promise. You walked down the hall but just before you went into your room, you stopped and listened.

“Do you get cold at night?” (Bestie) was asking.

“Huh? Oh. No. I’m pretty warm blooded,” Dean replied, sounding deflated and tired. He must’ve had an odd look on his face.

“Hey,” (Bestie) said. You could picture putting a comforting hand on his arm. “Just give her awhile. She’s not good at the whole showing emotion thing,” she said quietly. You almost didn’t hear her. Dean didn’t say anything.

“I know it sounds cliché,” she continued, “But it’s not you. It’s her stubborn ass.” Her voice sounded farther away, she must’ve been getting the sheets, “If it helps any, that was a sign that she’s attracted to you. Like seriously attracted. Like you have a serious chance with her. Just gotta warn you though, she takes things slow.” Dean must’ve smiled. You could hear the smile is (Bestie)’s voice. It made you, too, smile slightly.

“Oh,” she said, even father away this time, going to her room to get Sam settled, “And she’s not the only one with a scary set of knife skills and kung fu moves….. And I hold the record in my class for most calves castrated in 30 minutes.” You giggled and heard Sam’s hearty laughter from (Bestie)’s room. You could almost picture her sweetly innocent smile and Dean’s face paling as his hand unconsciously twitched to cover himself. You sighed and limped into your room.

You turned on the bedside lamp and pulled your phone from your pocket and hooked it up to the charger. You went through your routine. Windows closed firmly and locked, closet closed, discarded clothes picked up and put into the hamper. Once satisfied, you sat on your bed and waited for (Bestie). She came in a few seconds later and closed the door behind her. She pegged you with a look that screamed for no bullshitting or she would slap you silly.

“Okay. What was that about? One moment you’re literally in his arms and making sparkly eyes that I haven’t seen in forever, and the next you won’t even look at the man!” she started in, “I mean, seriously, (Your name), he’s gorgeous and rugged and smart and a smartass. He’s perfect for you. AND you like him! Don’t even deny it, I know you do. So seriously, what gives?” She ran out of breath and looked at you expectantly. You sighed.

“Yes, I like him,” you admitted, no use in denying it, “But, (Bestie), I can’t….” You looked at her, “And besides, he’ll be gone in a week anyways.” You looked down at your hands. You felt her hand on your knee. You looked up when she didn’t say anything.

“So? He’ll be back,” she smiled, “At least, I’m assuming he’ll come back with his brother.” She winked. You rolled your eyes and flopped back.

“(Bestie), seriously, I just can’t.”

“Is this what I think it’s about?” she asked. Your stomach tightened painfully.

 

“It’s about Hunter, isn’t it.”

She didn’t ask. She told.


	7. Flashbacks suck and hurt like Hell...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY!!!  
> WARNING: This chapter has a strong case of sexual violence. Do not read if you have triggers that could be hit. If you skip this chapter, don’t worry. It’s mostly back story about the main character (you). You won’t miss anything too important. 
> 
> That being said, to keep it on one chapter, it’s long…Sorry not sorry.  
> Comment (nicely) below.  
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

Hunter was the guy you had dated in high school and had started college with. He was the only outsider who knew everything about you. Your abilities. Your past. Your issues. He would tell you every day that he loved you and that you were beautiful. You loved him, too. You let him in on bad days and let him hold you. He would let you snuggle into his shoulder and cry until his shoulder and neck were soaked and you couldn’t cry any more. On even worse days, he would instigate you. He would goad you until you physically fought him. He would make you so pissed off and would spar with you until you were an exhausted, blubbering mess and then he’d sit on the floor next to you and pull you into his lap.

It was because of this that you loved him. You showed him your deepest, darkest parts and he still said he loved you. You gave him your heart. Back then, you weren’t a hard-ass. You were tough but you had a heart. You were sociable and people liked you. You weren’t inconsiderate of people or rude… In short, you weren’t a sociopath.

One day, though, you got back from back from a girls’ weekend in Panama City and the moment you saw him, your warning bells went off loud and clear. He was hiding something. Something big, something deep. He did a very good job hiding it from you. You couldn’t, for the life of you, figure it out. You used every bit of your talent. You thought maybe he had cheated on you. You dropped a hint every now and then that if he wanted to tell you something, he could, and you promised not to get mad. If he would just come clean about it, you guys could work it out and then be okay. You loved him.

Weeks went by and the bells continued to get louder and louder. You tried to ignore them. Hunter began acting off. Began doing little things differently. Stopped doing some things, started doing other things. If you brought it up, he would say something along the lines of it was what he’s always done and that you knew that. That’s when the chest pains started. Not that you told him.

_Currently, your breathing started to pick up as your memories attacked you. You hadn’t had a flashback this bad for over a year and a half._

You and Hunter had gone out with some friends and gone to a house party that a frat brother of one of Hunter’s friends was throwing. You drank way more than you should have. You were normally very careful about how much you drank. You knew stupid things happened when a person went out of control. You just wanted the warning bells to be quiet. You just wanted the pain in your heartstrings to be numb.

At the end of the night, you found yourself pinned beneath him. He sucked and bit your earlobe and you had a moment of clarity. All the booze was shocked out of your system. You were in your bra and underwear and Hunter was laying flush against you in boxers, pressing you into the mattress.

“Wait!” you had said and tried to sit up.

“No,” he growled low and menacing in your ear, “I’m done waiting. You said you were okay with this.” He ground his pelvis against you and you could _feel_ _him_. You gasped. He took advantage of your open mouth. You knew the maneuvers to get out from under him but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him. The way he had you pinned the ONLY maneuvers that would work, were moves designed to hurt and incapacitate. So you laid there. He kept at it, kissing, nipping, grinding. He reached under you and unhooked you bra. You looked him in the eyes.

“Please stop,” you had whimpered pathetically. _It disgusted you, now, that you had had the strength and motivation and skill to stop him, yet you just laid there and begged and whimpered. Your breathing was getting ragged and you felt (Bestie)’s hand tighten on your knee. You squeezed your eyes shut, you weren’t seeing anything in the present anyways. You tried to snap out of it. You had a feeling (Bestie) didn’t realize how deep you were into a flashback yet. Any moment she’d start calling your name. Maybe that would snap you out….Maybe it wouldn’t…_.

“You said you wanted this,” he grunted, grinding against you for added emphasis, “You said you were ready and I’m tired of waiting.” He slipped your bra off and threw it to the floor. You could feel the white hot tears running down your cheeks. You couldn’t hurt him. You loved him. Your rational side tried to help by telling you that this wasn’t him. Wasn’t _your_ Hunter. This was a monster.

But you couldn’t do it…

You loved him.

So…

You closed your eyes and became completely unresponsive. You shut everything down. Every feeling, physically and mentally. You shut down. You prayed that it would just be over soon.

It was then that you had heard a crash at the front door. Hunter stilled and looked up, hand on the edge of your underwear.

The next thing you knew, (Bestie) was busting through your door, screaming like a banshee, brandishing your pair of silver daggers that you had kept hidden at all times next to the front door. You could almost see the halo and wings of your guardian angel that was your soul sister.

She thrust out a dagger and sliced across his back. It could’ve been shock and imagination but you could have sworn you saw smoke coming from the wound and his screams seemed more potent than they should have been. (Bestie) was screaming something. Later, she told you she had been calling him every filthy name under the sun, which was unlike her, she may have slept around but when it came to cursing her mouth was crystal. She had screamed at him to get out or she would kill him.

She sliced at his back and arms several times. If you had been capable of it at the time, you would have been proud of her. Her forms from practice were near perfect. Her grips strong. She was lethal and she knew it. And so did Hunter. He fought back just enough to get out the door and away. (Bestie) had chased him to the front door. The moment she knew he was gone, she slammed the door closed and locked the chain (the knob was broken from where she had kicked the door in) and put a chair under the knob remnants. No one was getting in until she let them in.

She dropped the daggers and ran back to your side. You were laying on your back where he left you, staring blankly at the ceiling. She approached you slowly and sat beside you. She sat you up and put a blanket around your shoulders, covering your nakedness, and pulled you against her. It took you fifteen minutes to realize you were safe and that (Bestie) had you. When that set in, your muscles turned to water and the tears flowed. She rocked you and made the calming ‘shhh’ noise that moms used to calm their babies. The night had come and passed and morning was well under way. (Bestie)’s ‘shhh’ noises had long since turned to light snoring. Not once did she loosen her grip around you, though. She knew, even in sleep, that she had to protect you. You didn’t sleep. You knew that if you closed your eyes, the night would reply.

Eventually, (Bestie) woke up. She didn’t leave you alone. She helped you shower and dress in clean, loose clothes. Brushed and braided your hair. She talked about unimportant things the entire time. You listened. Her voice calmed you. You girls sat on the couch and watched Disney movies, your head in her lap. You made a conscious effort to pay attention to the movies. Late afternoon rolled around.

“(Your name),” (Bestie) had said gently as the credits of another movie rolled. You knew what was coming and that it had to be done, but that didn’t stop your stomach from rolling uncomfortably.

“We have to go to the station now. I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but we have to,” she said, rubbing your arm, “Mama would want you to.” She was talking about her mom, who had taken you in as a second daughter. You sighed and nodded as you felt your face go pale.

“You can wear that if you want. At this point, they’re just going to ask questions. That means you’ll have to cut the silent treatment,” she said, firmly, “Now. Say you love me and that I’m the awesome-est person alive.” You looked at her extremely confused. “Your first words aren’t gonna be something of nightmare. They’re going to be of good.” Unbelievably, you felt your stoic face break into a small grin. This is why she was your soul sister.

“I-,” you voiced crackled from disuse. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I love you, (Bestie), and you are the awesome-est person alive,” you repeated quietly.

You arrived at the police station and clicked to auto pilot. You gave your information and _his_ and answered the police’s questions in a quiet monotone. They were kind and understanding and offered to bring in a therapist for you, which you firmly declined. After several hours of recounting what happened, they finally released you into (Bestie)’s care. They had scolded her for not bringing you in immediately, but she scoffed and assured them that what she had done saved you better than anything. (She was right, of course.) You guys went home. You started to head to your room, but (Bestie) stopped you.

“No. Go to my room. Take a shower, go to sleep. Tomorrow, you and I are going to get supplies to re-do your room completely. No arguing,” she had told you. You didn’t have any fight in you to argue, but that didn’t sound like a bad idea.

The next morning, you walked out of (Bestie)’s room to get a glass of water, only to find that during the night, she had cleaned out your room for you. Your clothes and the stuff she knew you would want to keep on one side of the living room, stuff she wasn’t sure about in the middle, and several large trash bags near the door that held stuff she knew you wouldn’t want or deemed it better for you to get rid of. It touched your closed off heart and you began to cry.

(Bestie) came out of your room and ran to you when she found you crying in the middle of her hall.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” she wrapped her arms around you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled with a watery smile,” F-for all of th-this. I w-would have never been –hiccup- able t-to d-do th-this on my own.”

“Shh, what are sisters for, huh?” she said smiling down at you, “It’s all gonna be alright. I promise.”

She kept true to her promise. She had posted pictures of your furniture on Craigslist, yesterday evening, saying that the first legitimate offer could have it. A dad came by that afternoon and paid three-hundred for the entire set and hauled it off. (Bestie) took you to the paint store and helped you pick out all brand new colors. You found that when in the presence of other people, you shut down. No emotion, just calm coldness. With just your sister though, you were almost normal. You were able to laugh and sing (terribly) and dance. Only for her, were you, you.

It turned out to be a two day job to get the room completely redone. The cops had called at some point during the day and informed (Bestie) and you that _He_ was nowhere to be found and told you to make sure to lock up tight, just in case, while they put out a BOLO. You and (Bestie) slept together that night and you slept deeply and without nightmares. The next day, you guys went out and found a beautiful new furniture set and picked out new linens and a new mattress (when she had said complete redo, she meant it), and moved all the ‘keep’ stuff into their rightful places.

The new room made you happy. Well, the watered down happy that you felt because of (Bestie). It kept nightmares at bay and on particularly bad nights, you crawled in next to your sister and she would put and arm firmly around you and keep the nightmares away completely.

The police ended up finding _Him_ a week later. He was found dead by asphyxiation on the other side of town. What was found curious, though, was how that he was lacking the dagger slashes that (Bestie) had bestowed upon chasing him out. That fact that you had been near catatonic at the time and (Bestie) had been with you the entire time, you both were ruled out for his cause of death. You were sad that you had lost the love of your life but deep down, you were glad that he was dead. Unable to hurt anyone else ever again.

It had taken you four months to bounce back. With (Bestie), you were normal. Plagued by nightmares, but loving and happy like you had been. To the outside world, you turned sociopathic and cold and the bad kind of snarky sarcastic and into a ‘hard-ass.’ You didn’t mind. It kept people at bay. It kept anyone else from getting into your heart to wreck more damage.

Now it was two years later and you had started noticing that you were ever so slightly turning back into your old self. You laughed more, were kinder. Old friends noticed and started to return. You still kept them at bay, and they understood why, but you were able to crack funny, not hurtful, jokes. Now that you thought about it, maybe it was because you were finally healing. You thought you had healed months and months ago, but you now realized that that hadn’t been healed. Healing was moving on. Healing was being your courageous self and not letting _Him_ ruin your life anymore.

And if healing meant moving on….

Could it be possible that maybe you could _fully_ move on?


	8. Are you awake?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To say you had a rough past would be an understatement, but you have your best friend. Maybe you CAN heal.... But something about that flashback stood out... Now its got you thinking..
> 
> What are you guys thinking???  
> Tell me (nicely) below.  
> THANKS!!!  
> XOXO  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You opened your eyes and became aware of the fact that you were crying. (Bestie) held you just like she always did, when your flashbacks took over you and left you unresponsive to the rest of the world. You stirred and shifted so that you were supporting yourself. (Bestie) look at you carefully, deciding if you were back with her or still in the flashback.

“I’m good,” you sniffled. She sighed, relieved.

“Good. That was a bad one,” she commented.

“Yeah,” you snorted, “It was and it hurt like hell.”

“How much?” she asked, asking how much of the incident it made you relive.

“All of it,” you said, sniffling again and wiping the tears from your sticky cheeks, “Since the very beginning.” She sighed and pulled you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” she soothed, “You’re okay, now. I promise. What do you say?” You smiled.

“I love you, (Bestie), and you are the awesome-est person alive,” you chuckled. Your comfort phrase. The one she made you recite after every flashback so you knew she was there. She held you tightly some more.

“How long was I out?” you asked.

“Ten minutes,” she said, concern coloring her voice, “Not as long as it used to be, but longer than what you’ve had in a long while.” You sighed.

“I’m good now, though,” you pulled away to look her in the eye, “That was the last bad one, I think.” She studied you for several moments. You felt different. You felt…. happier. Free-er. More connected to life than you had been in a long time. And she could see it. Her face broke out into a big, goofy, proud grin. It made you break into a grin, yourself.

“(Your name), that’s great! I can see it,” she said, “I don’t even have your Sherlock-syndrome and I can see it.” You giggled at her term for your talent. It felt good to laugh. It wasn’t tight and controlled anymore. It was light and happy. You sighed.

“Thank you, (Bestie), for always being here for me,” you said.

“Of course,” she said quietly, “What are sisters for, huh?” You giggled again.

“Now,” you said with mock seriousness, “Don’t you have a hot moose to go cuddle up to?” She laughed and you untangled yourself from her.

“I guess I do,” she blushed. You smiled and pushed her off the bed.

“Hey!” she protested.

“Go!” you laughed. She stood up, laughing, and walked to the door. She stopped with a hand on the doorknob.

“Are you sure you’re good?” she asked, sobering up.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you smiled.

“’Cause I can stay and you can be my hot midget moose cuddle buddy,” she grinned. You rolled your eyes and picked up a pillow. It hit the door where her face had been when she squeaked and hopped out the door. You crawled to the end of your bed and retrieved your pillow, remembering you were down a pillow since you left one in the living room for Dean. You turned out your lamp and snuggled down into your nest of blankets and pillows.

Dean. You wondered what he was thinking or dreaming about. You mind began to wonder. You started thinking about his story. All the monsters you told you about. Monsters. Yeah, the vampires and demons and…angels…and….werewolves…

Wait…

Monsters….

You sat bolt upright in your bed. Sleep cleared from your head as you played back what he had said. There was one part to your flashback that had stood out more than it normally had. When (Bestie) was saving you and attacking Hunter with the daggers in the flashback, you mind had brought to your attention about how you noted that the slices from the daggers had appeared to smoke slightly and that he had screamed worse than you would have expected.

What if….

No, it couldn’t be…

That would mean…

And if that were true…

You threw the covers off yourself and jumped from the bed. You had momentarily forgotten your injured foot. You winced as pain rocketed up your leg. You rubbed it to soothe that pain away. When it was gone, you stood up and hobbled to your door. You peeked your head out. The lights had been turned out so it was completely dark in the living room. This suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea. It was late and he was probably asleep already. _Go_ , your rational-self urged, _you need answers and you’ll drive yourself crazy if you wait ‘til morning._

You bit your lip and debated. You were right, of course, it would drive you crazy. You quietly tip-hobbled down the hall. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You peeked around the corner and found a Dean-sized lump on the pull-out bed. It was kind-of comical and ridiculously cute to see him curled up under a turquoise loose sheet. His back was to you and you could make out steady even breathing. You almost turned around and when back using him being asleep and you not wanting to wake him as an excuse. He sighed deeply and shifted. _Okay, so not completely asleep._

You hobbled closer. You stretched yourself taller trying to see his face. If it was relaxed you’d turn around and wait until morning. Your breath caught. He had your zebra blanket bunched up in front of him, one hand behind his head under your pillow and the other pulling an edge of the blanket to his face. It was how you laid when you washed a blanket and you fell asleep enjoying the fresh, clean smell. That was….. so freaking adorable. Your heart throbbed in your chest.

You looked down at your own chest, half expecting to see your ribcage move, it throbbed so hard. It hadn’t don’t that since…

Oh yeah, you snapped back to your mission. You stretched back up and ignored the fact that your heart throbbed again at his position. You finally could see the top side of his face. Not relaxed. Well relaxed, but it was a forced relax as he tried to make himself relax to sleep. Crap… well you had made a deal with yourself.

“Dean?” you whispered, “You awake?” He grunted and shifted.

“Dean?” you whispered a little louder. Nothing.

“Hey, Dean. Are you still awake?” you said, one last time, a little louder. He grunted.

You were turning back to go to your room, not having the courage to try again, when you heard, “(Your name)? That you?” you turned back around.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you said, quietly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you. Go back to sleep.” You were glad that the darkness hid your blush.

“No. No, I wasn’t asleep yet,” he said, keeping his voice down and sitting up. His voice distracted you. It was deeper and richer than it had been a while ago. You shivered and you couldn’t blame the air that time. “What’s up?” he asked, bringing your attention back.

“I… I have a question,” you said, stepping closer, “You’re probably gonna think I’m weird, but…”

“Sweetheart,” he grinned, patting the space next to him, “I just told you that I hunt monsters for no pay at all and have been to Hell and back, literally. I doubt there’s anything you could tell me, shy of saying you have a fully functional Siamese twin on your ass, that would make me think you’re weird.” You gave him an odd look.

“Well…,” you gave a fake sheepish grin, knowing his eyes had adjusted to the lack of light already. His face fell.

“Just kidding,” you laughed quietly, sitting on the corner of the mattress. He chuckled and gained his sleepy grin back.

“Okay,” he said, looking you in the eyes, “What’s on your mind?” You were suddenly shy and unsure if you should ask. You were sort-of afraid of the answer. You picked at the gauze on your foot, as you sat Indian-style. He laid a hand on yours, stilling your movements. Your breath caught and your heart lurched and you looked up. In the darkness of the room, your eyes adjusted to use what little light it had. His eyes were gleaming with concern and care.

“Hey,” he whispered, “It’s okay. Whatever it is you can tell me.” You realized that you, for some reason trusted him. And you were dying to know the truth. You took a deep breath.

“Well, you were talking about different monsters earlier and…,” you started, unable to take your eyes off his, “… and well, I was wondering if there was a kind of monster out there that can look like a person you know, know things they know, act like them to an extent, and that like… smokes when sliced by a dagger.” He looked really concerned and his hand tightened on yours.

“What was the dagger made of?” he asked, easily guessing that you had come across said situation. Chills ran down your back and you felt the blood drain from your face.

“Silver,” you said, panic creeping into your voice.

“That… That sounds like a creature called a shape-shifter,” he said quietly, eyes quickly scanning the room on instinct, “They can take on the form of someone and sort-of download their memories. They can’t handle silver and their skin will burn if they come in contact with it. They can blend in seamlessly if they make sure the original doesn’t come busting in.” You breathing sped up and hitched. “(You name)? What’s wrong? Hey! It’s okay. You’re safe.” He pulled you towards him as a sob escaped your lips. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay,” he soothed. You tried to get a hold of yourself.

So that type of monster did exist. Hunter hadn’t been a monster. The monster had been the monster. Your Hunter had most likely been trussed up somewhere… Or dead already. You had blamed him, had been glad that he had died, and it wasn’t his fault. He had actually loved you. His love had been true. He would never have hurt you like that. The monster had… Not him. And you blamed him…And the monster had killed him. The cops had said there were ligature marks on the body’s wrists…

Sobs tore through you and Dean held you, awkwardly rubbing your back and arms and tucking your head under his chin. After a few minutes, you got control of yourself. You sniffled and pulled away. You couldn’t look Dean in the eye, embarrassed at your display of emotion.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I’m not one to usually break down in front of strangers. I just…. I had to know. I’m sorry.” You moved to get up, still not looking at him. He grabbed you hand and kept you seated. He put a hand under your chin and made you look at him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his eyes very concerned, very caring, very worried and extremely confused, “(Your name), what happened? You can tell me.” As you looked at him, you couldn’t stop the flow of words.

“Two years ago, I was in love with a guy,” you started, watching his eyes go from actively alert to danger to actively concerned and listening, “He knew everything about me and was always there for me through thick and thin, good, bad, and ugly,” you sniffled, “I went on a girls’ trip one weekend and when I came back, he was hiding something from me. I thought maybe he had cheated on me and didn’t want to tell me. My warning bells were going crazy, but I didn’t want to listen to them. Weeks went by and he was starting to change. One night we went out partying and I drank too much trying to shut the bells up, you know?” You snuffled again, and he gently held your hands, silently urging you to continue.

“The next thing I knew, he had me pinned. We had discussed way before that I was… am very traditional. I didn’t want to… you know,” you blushed, and he nodded in understanding, “before marriage. I knew the maneuvers to get out from under him but I couldn’t hurt him. (Bestie) came in with my silver daggers I kept by the door and got him off of me. I thought it was just my imagination and shock that smoke came from the dagger slices. He bolted and a week later the cops found his body asphyxiated with ligature marks on his wrists. It was odd because he didn’t have any of the dagger marks that (Bestie) had given him,” you finished. He gently pulled you into another hug.

“Yeah,” Dean said gently, deep voice rumbling comfortably in his chest, “That sounds like a shifter, sweetheart.” You chocked down another sob that threatened to overcome you again. You stayed like that for a while. You leaning comfortably on against Dean's chest, his arms around you and his chin resting on the top of your head. You pulled away and looked at your feet again.

"I blamed him," you said quietly, "I was glad that he was dead. He wouldn't hurt me or anyone else anymore if he was dead."

"It's okay, (Your name)," Dean comforted, "You didn't know. You're lucky, though, you know that?" You looked at him with a look that screamed 'how am I lucky here?'

"Most shifters don't let their victims live. You're lucky that your daggers had been silver and that (Bestie) had gotten there in time," he explained. His eyes held so much. Concern over you and over what happened. Anger that such a creature hurt you. Understanding as he realized this is why you had been reluctant and acted odd after his story. Sympathy for you losing a loved one and, deep down and only visible to your eyes, there was a hint of jealousy. You stowed that fact away for further evaluation. His hands still held both of yours. You nodded slightly and sniffed and pulled a hand out of his grip to wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks.

"Thank you," you said collecting yourself and preparing to stand up, "I just... I had to know."

"No problem," Dean said quietly.

"And (Your name)," he grabbed your hand as you stood up, "I know you just met me and all, but... If you need anything... a fresh shoulder to lean on, someone to listen, anything, ...I'll be right here."


	9. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well after a rough night, we should lighten the mood, yeah?  
> Haha Enjoy!
> 
> As always comment below!  
> XOXO,  
> Crowley'sOwnTempress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its short, I wrote this chapter quick.

You limped back to your room. You felt an odd mixture of feelings that you hadn’t truly felt in a long time. You shut the door gently behind you and laid back down in your nest of blankets. It had felt good to tell Dean. You still felt guilty as hell for blaming Hunter, but you knew that what was done was done. You felt you could trust Dean, which was good considering you just spilled your deepest darkest. And he had been genuinely concerned for you. Wanted to help you. He held you when you cried. Your mind was beginning to slow and fall into a haze. Soon you were asleep and a certain set of candy apple green eyes dominated your unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_“I’m CEO Steve Jobs of the wobs._

_I’m hard at work making your thingamabobs._

_I invented something you ain’t never seen before._

_It’s call the wobble, let me show you some more.”_

      

You sighed and rolled over. That would be your alarm. You snatched up your phone from the side table and quickly turned it off. You groaned and shoved it under your pillow, _just five more minutes, then you’d get up…_ Your eyes fluttered close again.

 

_“Backstroke lover always hidin' 'neath the covers,  
_

_‘Til I talked to your daddy, he say  
_

_He said "you ain't seen nothin' till you're down on a muffin  
_

_Then you're sure to be a-changin' your ways"_

You groaned. That would be your second alarm. You let Steven sing at you as you sat up and rubbed the crust out of your eyes and reached for your glasses. You could feel how jacked up your hair was. _Eh, I’ll brush it in a minute_. You stood up and stretched. Your shoulders settled into their spots with two solid sounding pops. You leaned back and felt you spine loosen and pop in many places. You knew this probably wasn’t a good thing but between your bad joints and your training you were surprised it wasn’t worse. Instead, you giggled at yourself and walked to your closet.

_Ow….why does my foot hurt?_ You looked down. The gauze wrapped member brought something about a coffee bottle and glass wounds to your sleep addled mind. You shrugged. You pulled out a bra and some underwear from your drawers. Thinking a moment, you grabbed a pair of shorts and one of your comfy camis. You yawned and grabbed your still playing phone off you bed and tucked into your bra. _Wait…. Why am I still a bra?_ You looked down at your boobs. _Yeap…. Still in a bra. You didn’t go to bed that drunk did you?_ You took it off.

It always took you forever to become coherent in the mornings. You gathered your stuff and made your way across the hall and deposited your stuff in your bathroom. You noticed that your alarm was still going off so you unlocked you phone and turned off the alarm and turned on Spotify. Always with an eclectic taste in music ((Bestie) always picked on you for it because the most random songs always popped up on your playlists), Timmy Trumpet’s Freaks featuring Savage came on and you smiled. You couldn’t dance but this song always made you jump around and giggle and move your hips in a way that surprised people (in a good way, salsa hips was your claim to fame and the only thing you could actually do good).

You tucked your phone into the boob pocket of your cami. You were struck again with how useless it was to try to have a “built-in bra” in camis when they did absolutely no good what-so-ever for girls with good-sized boobs like you. You walked out and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink of water before getting in the shower. One track mind registered nothing as you walked down the hall, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

“The bass and the tweeters makes the speakers go to war,” you sang and danced, making “cool” faces as you bounced across the kitchen to the plastic cup cabinet. “Ah! The mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the flo-OH SHIT!!” you said, clapping a hand over your mouth so as not to wake up (Bestie) and you slipped and landed on your butt. The source of you startled-ness started laughing, a deep, rough bark that made you cheeks go so red you were sure they were on fire and made you remember why exactly you had kept a bra on last night.

You had popped your hips and spun to the music and when you faced the direction you had come in, Dean was standing in the kitchen doorway arms crossed and a ( _sexy_ ) look of sleepy amusement on his face. With the memories from last night slamming into you mind, your gauzed foot slipped on the floor and ended up on you butt while a trumpet blared between your boobs. Dean was laughing so hard that he was doubled over clutching his sides. All you could do was remain on the floor and put your face in your hands and start giggling. Eventually, you got a hold of yourself and pulled your phone out and paused the music while standing up and turning to the fridge to get the water you had originally come in to get. Dean wiped tears from his eyes as his barks turned into hearty chuckles.

“Hey,” he said taking a breath, “You okay, Miss McSmooth?”

“Shut up,” you giggled and leaned you head on the fridge in attempt to bring something cool to your burning cheeks. He laughed again. When your cup was full, you turned away from him and towards the sink. You chugged the water and put the cup down. You turned to him and did your best to put a serious face on.

“Move,” you directed, stopping in front of him. He grinned and did a little imitation of your awesome dance moves.

“Dean, stop! What are you doing?” you laughed.

“You said move, so I’m moving. I figured this is what you meant!” he laughed wiggling his hips in a bad imitation of your but in a way that drew your attention and snagged your breath. He was wearing loose fitting lounge pants that dipped low enough on his hips that your mind filled in the little fact that he slept commando. His shirt was a soft looking plain black cotton crew neck. It was a little small. You inner fangirl couldn’t move. Rational you screamed _Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Get out of here!_ You snapped your eyes back to Dean’s face. The…. safe-not-safe-but-safer? zone.

“Dean, that’s not what I meant and you know it. Move out. Of. The. Way!” you ordered feeling you face immediately going impossibly redder.

“Or what?” Dean replied stilling and looking mischievously down at you and stepping closer. _Geez does he not know that that is one of the most sexually charged sentences, according to Tumblr?_ your mind put in. One look at his face told you that yes, yes he did know that. You’re eyes went huge and breath left you. _Quick! Snarky reply! Go!_ You mind stuttered to find something, anything!

“Or… or…” you stumbled,” Or I won’t make you breakfast!” You inwardly slapped a hand to your forehead. That innuendo wouldn’t go unnoticed. AND you’d have to cook. He grinned evilly.

“And what exactly is for breakfast?” he asked with some much false sweet innocence that you sure in infant would slap him with their stereotypical big lollipop. Sticky…sweet…sugar _STOP_. You fumbled again.

“Um… Well… ah… We’ll discuss that after I get out of the shower!” you finally said. Talk about an awkward morning after!

“Mind if I joined?” his sleep voice growled. You shivered and it resonated deep in the pit of your stomach. Okay, you had to get away before you lost every ounce of what little control you had.

“Yes. Yes, I do mind,” you said and gently pushed him back and booked it to you bathroom with a little squeal. You locked the door and rested you back against it. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and groaned. You hair was a complete and utter mess with half of it escaping the ponytail holder. Your face was an alarming shade of fuchsia and your eyes shined like you had a fever. You pushed away from the door and turned the water on.

You turned around to put you phone in the docking station, except….. ugh… your phone was sitting on the counter next to the fridge from where you set it down to avoid dropping it. You put your face in your hands and just laughed. Oh, this was going to be an interesting few days while the boys worked their case. You undressed and unwrapped to gauze from your foot to clean it while you were in the shower and hopped and refused to let your mind daydream about what would have happened if- No! Nope. Not even going to put that into words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs of today:  
> Wobble by Family Force 5  
> Walk This Way by Aerosmith  
> Freaks by Timmy Trumpet ft. Savage  
> ^^^Not mine lol


	10. Anyone Can Cook!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so you said you'd make Dean breakfast er...make breakfast for everyone! ;D  
> What to cook?
> 
> Hope to write more soon!  
> Comments comments comments!  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTempress

You got out of the shower much calmer than when you got in. You decided that today would be your rest day and you wouldn’t be going to the gym like you had originally planned and set an alarm for. You dried off and wrapped your hair in a towel. Wiping your foot with alcohol and putting numbing cream on it again, you began to think about what you had in the pantry and fridge. If you were going to cook breakfast, you were going to make something good. You were pretty sure the boys hadn’t had a decent meal in a while.

You dressed and walked out. The living room was still dark. When you walked in, you found Dean asleep on his bed. Feet on the floor as if he intended to sit up and wait for you to finish, but sleep enticed him again causing him to fall back into sleep. You smiled and crept to the kitchen. You could be mean and get him back for sneaking up in you but no. You’d play nice. You decided to make a simple pancakes recipe you found years ago. You pulled everything out quietly and started the bacon. The shower kicked on in (Bestie)’s bathroom.

You were almost finished when you heard the shower turn off. After a few minutes the showered turned back on and Sam walked into the kitchen, with a grin over his shoulder at his spread eagle big brother.

“Morning Sam,” you said cheerily and quietly.

“Mornin’ (Your name),” he said sleepily, running his fingers through his damp hair, “Coffee?” You laughed.

“Yeah, we’ve got a Keurig. Machine cups are in the cabinet above it, mugs are in the same cabinet, shelf about the machine cups. Feel free to anything up there and the creamers in the fridge,” you smiled, watching him shuffle over to the machine and grunt a thanks. A coffee smell mixed in with the smell of sausage, bacon, and pancakes. He set the cup down and left the room. He came back with a laptop and opened it up.

“Wi-Fi password?” he asked. You walked over and typed it in. Leaving you damp towel on the back of your chair. He chuckled, “Sherlocked? Really?”

“Hush,” you laughed, “It’s one of my favorite shows.”

“What is?” (Bestie) asked wandering in and making a beeline for the Keurig.

“Sherlock,” you said, “Sam was making fun of our Wi-Fi password.”

“I make fun of our password,” (Bestie) laughed.

You sighed, “It’s better than what you wanted to make it.”

“Which was?” Sam smiled, enjoying the banter between you. (Bestie) blushed. You laughed.

“Okay I was really hungry when we were creating the password,” she defended.

“Oh, just tell him, (Bestie),” you laughed, flipping the pancakes.

She sighed and hung her head, “Cheeseburger monster…with a “z” in cheese and a “u” in monster.” Sam busted out laughing. (Bestie) stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sam, would you like eggs with your breakfast?” you asked, adding the cooked pancakes to the growing stack.

“Sure,” he replied, turning to the laptop. You got another pan warming up on the stove as you poured more pancakes onto your griddle.

“Here, I’ll do that,” said a rough voice right behind you. You jumped and swatted at Dean’s arms and chest.

“Would you please stop doing that?! You’re gonna kill me!” you scolded, laughing. He laughed and moved to get eggs from the fridge.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want you falling and bustin’ your ass again,” he chortled and your face went red again.

“Wait what?” (Bestie) laughed, “Again?” You groaned and shot Dean a now-look-what-you’ve-done look.

“Should you tell them or shall I?” he grinned. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll get more enjoyment out of retelling it,” you grumbled. Dean laughed and began cracking and whisking eggs. _Huh, look at that. The man might be able to cook._

“So earlier this morning,” he started, “(Your name) forgot that me and Sam were here. She gets up and gallivants down the hallway, blaring music, scaring the crap outta me.”

“Okay, I was not gallivanting down the hallway and my music was not blaring. I walked and my music was at a normal volume,” you interjected focusing on the pancakes and checking on the bacon and sausage.

“What song?” (Bestie) asked. You blushed.

“Timmy Trumpet,” you said.

“Yeah, she was gallivanting. I was even there and I can tell you that!” she laughed with Sam and Dean joining in.

“Anyways!” you said.

“Anyways,” Dean continued, “She gets to the kitchen and I follow her thinking that she’s about to make breakfast and maybe I could help her. Nope, she’s dancing all around to the music and is looking for a plastic cup. She turns around and notices me, screams ‘Oh shit!’ and slips and falls!” He can barely finish the story because he’s laughing just as hard as he did the first time. Sam and (Bestie) are equally entertained. You just rolled your eyes and pulled the last of the pancakes of the griddle.

“Okay, okay, yes, I forgot you guys where here, I was groovin’, and I’m a klutz,” you grinned and pulled plates from the cabinet, “Now get your asses over here and eat this food I so diligently made for you people.” You pulled the bacon and sausage out of the oven and placed them on the counter and put tongs next to them. (Bestie) and Sam got up and started fixing their plate and Dean finished up the eggs. You caught (Bestie)’s eyes and silently put a finger on your nose. She grinned and copied the motion. Dean caught your motion and looked at you confusedly. You looked pointedly at Sam’s back and tapped your nose. Dean slowly put a finger on his nose. It looked adorable.

“No nose goes!” (Bestie) laughed, “Sam you get to say the grace.” You giggled. Sam turned around and saw that you, (Bestie), and Dean all had fingers on their noses. The boys looked awkwardly at each other and Dean shrugged.

“We don’t rea-,“ Sam started.

“That’s okay,” you winked, ”You can still send out a thank you.”

“Well…um…okay,” he said. You each got plates of food, silverware, and drinks, and sat at the table. You looked expectantly at Sam.

“Okay,“ Sam, started, you bowed your head, “Um…Thanks? For umm… the food and um… shelter… and the girls… and waking us up. Ah… amen?” You picked up your fork and grinned at Sam giving him a silent good job. You all tucked in and began eating.

“Wow, (Your nickname), these pancakes are really good!” Sam said.

“Yeah, what did you put in ‘em?” Dean asked, forking a big piece into his maw.

“Thank you,” you laughed, “I put in a small mixture of cinnamon, powdered sugar, and believe it or not a small touch of Bailey’s French Vanilla coffee creamer.”

“They’re amazing,” Sam said.

“Imma haf to ‘member dat one,” Dean muffled through another bite of pancake.

“Dean, you’re not a pig,” you gently scolded with a smile, “Swallow before speaking.”

Dean swallowed and grinned, “That’s what he said.” You rolled your eyes. You took a bite of your eggs.

“Wow, Dean. What did you put in the eggs? They’re really yummy,” you said.

“Just salt, pepper, and little of the mild salsa you had in the fridge,” he grinned somewhat sheepishly.

“Huh, I would have never have thought you could cook,” you laughed.

“Dean’s actually a really good cook. He makes mostly burgers and fries but if you give him a cook book, it usually comes out better than you’d expect,” Sam explained and Dean blushed.

“Well, someone had to keep you from getting’ scurvy or something, growing up,” Dean mumbled, “Besides, you know what they say, anyone can cook.” You looked up at him and then locked eyes at (Bestie) who grinned in disbelief.

“Did you just?” You asked with a big grin.

“Did I just what?” Dean asked, blush darkening and making his freckles stand out.

“Did you just quote a Disney movie?” you laughed.

“I…No,” he replied.

“You’re lying,” you said smugly.

“Am not.”

“Are too, Dean. You can’t lie to me,” you laughed.

“I’m not lying!” he retorted.

“Don’t worry, Dean, men who are willing to watch Disney movies are instantly more attractive in (your name)’s book,” (Bestie) laughed.

“Oh…Really now?” Dean grinned at you, “Well, in that case, yes, yes, it is.” You rolled your eyes and everyone laughed.

"You should make a list of what you need and cook dinner for us tonight," you grinned at Dean.

"Um sure. If you want me to," he tried hard not to let the proud look in his eye give him away, but you saw it.

After all the food was eaten, (Bestie) and Dean had fought over the last pancake until you reached over and tore it in two, you got up to rinse syrup from the plates and load the dishwasher. Dean helped, (Bestie) made another cup of coffee, and Sam tapped at the laptop.

“So what’s the plan for today?” you asked Dean.

Dean looked from you to Sam, who shrugged.

“Well, probably going to do some scouting and see if we can find a place that looks like where they would be willing to set up camp and then we are probably going to go set up a contact with the local PD,” Dean said.

“Oh cool, I can help with both of those,” you said.

“We really don’t have time to make you a fed card,” Dean said carefully. You laughed.

“I don’t need one,” you grinned. Dean and Sam shot you a confused look.

“Guys, (Bestie)’s mom has all sorts of friends scattered throughout the precinct. We’ve got all sorts of connections,” you said.

“Yeah, trust us, it’ll be much easier for you to get what you need if we tag along,” (Bestie) added. Sam’s head whipped around to her.

“We?” he said. You laughed and gave Dean a look that said ‘where have we heard this before?’ Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something about ‘go figure...’

“Yes, we,” (Bestie) laughed.

“Who said you were coming with us?” Sam asked.

“Um yeah, that would be ah me?” she laughed. Dean groaned and you choked on a laugh and bumped your hip into Dean’s.

“Okay, Sammy, let me just save your breath here,” Dean stepped in, “She and (Your name) are both coming with us. They refuse to stay put and stay safe, when there’s the possibility of an adrenaline high.”

You and (Bestie) just laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to you if you guessed the movie!! ;)


	11. Full of Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovely people! Sorry you've waited so long for an update, college life at finals season is crazy!
> 
> Those of you reading this for the first time, You've made it 10 chapters so far! Go you! Whatcha think?  
> Those of you reading for the *insert number* time, welcome back! Hope you enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> As always, I LOVE to read your thoughts about *your* adventure, comment below!
> 
> Anyways, Much love,  
> Your humble writer,  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

“Dean, Are you taking a shower before we go?” you called over your shoulder as you headed down your hall to change into more appropriate clothing for a police department.

“Yes, please,” he called after you. You made a pit stop in the bathroom. You had a bad habit of leaving hair stuck to the shower wall. You cleaned that up and had just moved stuff around so he had a place to set his wash stuff, when he turned the corner. _Of course he would be shirtless already_. Your cheeks turned pink and warm as you eyed his six-pack, chiseled pecs, and some seriously built shoulders. You didn’t even know shoulders could be sexy, yet here they were. Tanned, taunt, and tantalizing. He chuckled, snapping you back to reality, which was you standing in the still damp shower holding and bottle of peppermint scented body wash.

“Oh, do I get help?” Dean chuckled, noting that your brain hadn’t quick connected back to your muscles yet. You blushed deeper.

“Uh… Oh! No, I was just ah… clearing a space for your things,” you stuttered setting the body wash down on the corner of the tub. You sighed as ( _of course_ ) it decided it wanted to commit body wash suicide and jump for the edge to the tub and slide to the exact opposite end of the tub. “Oops,” you chuckled. Seriously, if you kept blushing like you were doing around this man, you’d have no blood left for the rest of your body. _Which would explain the lack of cognitive thought_ , you told yourself. _Yeah, that’s why. You’re not majorly crushing on a hottie for the first time in years or anything_ , your fangirl added sarcastically.

“Well, thanks,” Dean laughed. You felt him eyeing your butt as you bent over to retrieve the body wash. You peeked around your legs and wiggled said observed body part. You giggled as he turned pink and looked away. You straightened and stepped out.

“Okay, well, um… Towels and washcloths are in the closet behind the door,” you said, trying to not look at his chest or concentrate on how close his naked torso was to you as you slipped by him, out of the bathroom. “Oh!” you stopped the door from closing all the way and stuck you head back in, “The knob is backwards, so hot is ice and cold is magma.”

Dean laughed, “Thanks.”

You nodded and closed the door. It almost pained you to walk away. You didn’t know what had gotten in you. You were always the perceptive one, the smart one, clumsy, yes, but not by any means slow reflexed. Ever since those expressive green eyes looked at you, though, you were letting him sneak up on you, letting your mind become fuzzy, and letting memories and feelings bubble to the surface. You shook your head.

Fifteen minutes later, you were changed into appropriate clothing, Dean was showered (Oh geez… he smelled amazing and his damp, spiked hair was begging for your fingers) and (Bestie) and Sam were waiting by the door. You grabbed you keys off the hook by the door on reflex.

“Nope, you girls are riding with us,” Dean said, grabbing your keys out of you hand.

“That’s all well and good, but we still need my keys to get back in, smart one,” you chuckled, snatching your keys back.

“Oh yeah,” he blushed. You heard Sam chuckle and you caught Dean flicking him off behind your back as you walked out the door. You guys stepped into the elevator and as it dropped you happened to glance over at your sister. She looked rested, so you knew that she had actually gone to sleep last night instead of exploring. You smiled to yourself as Sam lightly scratched her back and she leaned, ever so slightly, back into him. She blushed as she caught your eye.

_Oh yeah, her mother is going to kill me_. You were supposed to direct her to a good man with a good job and a steady income. Well… she’d at least found a good man. Even with a rough past, both men were still good down to their very marrows. And technically, they did have good jobs, just not particularly well paying jobs. The doors opened and you stepped out. You looked at Sam and he instantly knew the gleam in your eye, almost as if you guys had done this for years.

“SHOTGUN!” you both yelled, making Dean and (Bestie) jump. You imagined the cowboy showdown whistle as you pulled up a fist and set it on the flat palm of the other hand. He laughed and copied you.

“Two out of three?” Sam asked.

“You got it,” you grinned. You were excellent at rock, paper, scissors. You and (Bestie) played all the time to decide who got to pick the movie or got the last cookie. With her, you had been made to promise not to use your talent. With Sam, you had no such bargain. You winked at (Bestie) and she rolled her eyes. “You call,” you grinned and opened your senses.

“Okay… Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT,” Sam called. You watched his fingers, in slow motion, tense into ‘rock’ and you quickly threw paper. You grinned and looked up at him.

“Beginner’s luck,” he confidently smiled, “Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT.” He threw paper and you threw scissors.

“What was that, Sammy?” you laughed. Dean and (Bestie) laughed as Sam grumbled good-naturedly. You climbed in and scooted the seat forward to accompany Sam’s long legs.

“You totally cheated,” (Bestie) whispered in your ear as she slid across to sit behind Dean. You grinned and shot her a wink over the seat.

After a short drive, Dean pulled into that police station and a chill ran down your spine. You shivered. You had been here plenty of times since the incident, you knew practically everyone in the precinct. You were even best friends with one of the lead officers. She had been in you one your classes freshman year and you had lent a hand in many criminal cases that had left them stumped, kind of like a modern-day, living, Sherlock Holmes, just not nearly as dramatic and you could never match the sheer intellectual prowess of your dear Holmes, no matter what (Bestie) said.

You felt (Bestie)’s hand grasp and tighten around yours as you both walked to the front of the Impala. You glanced at her.

_You okay?_ she asked.

_Yeah. Fine_ , you assured and smiled gently.

“Follow our lead,” you smiled at the boys. They nodded and assumed a sort of official air. They had insisted on wearing their fed suits and told you and (Bestie) to introduce them as Agents Dean Rudd and Sam Slade. You rolled your eyes and made fun of Dean for choosing the names of drummers from AC/DC. They clearly weren’t used to letting others lead the way, but they relinquished the hold to you girls, seeing sense in that you guys were common faces.

“Hey Brianna! Is Nikki in?” you asked the tall, dark blonde at the front desk, as you leaned against the counter.

“Hey short stuff,” Brianna said, “Yeah, she’s back in her office.” She suddenly noticed the eye candy behind you and straightened up a little, an unconscious motion that made her bust stick out more, “Who are your friends?” You laughed.

“FBI Agents Rudd and Slade. They’re in town for the murder from the other day. We met them last night and said that we could get them in to see the leading officer,” you winked at her. She glanced from you to (Bestie) and then back to the boys and her eyes brightened as it clicked that you had said last night. She grinned at you and winked. You rolled your eyes.

“Ah okay. Well, you know they way. I’ll let her know you’ve got guests,” she said, hand inching to the phone. No doubt as soon as you turned your back, she’d call Nikki and tell her that you, (Your name), had a hot guy in your bed last night. She was one of the old friends that you had ended up pushing away and blocking out until recently.

“Thanks,” you grinned and pushed away from the counter. You and (Bestie) walked down the hall. You both nodded and returned ‘hey’’s as you walked through common areas and by open offices.

“Well, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Dean whispered from behind you.

“You just don’t even know,” you whispered back with a wink. You chuckled as his eyes darkened and he gave you a quick up-and-down look. You got back to the right office, knocked, and waltzed in before you heard the ‘come in’.

“Hey Niks!” You smiled and plopped into one of the chairs of the desk.

“Hey (Your nickname),” she said, not turning from the computer screen as she finished an email. She clicked send and turned around. She was a short but intimidating woman of about five feet two inches with long black hair pulled back into an elegant but firm bun. She stood up and smiled as she offered a hand to the boys.

“Officer Nikki Martinez. I know why you guys are here, but,” she turned to peg you and (Bestie) with a look, “why, exactly, are you two here?”

“Well, we promised that we’d take them to the best officer in the force,” (Bestie) smiled.

“And we’re nosy,” you grinned. She rolled her eyes but you could see she was genuinely surprised and immensely glad that you were almost radiating happiness. She was one of the few in the past two years that stuck by you, even when you were acting like a cold-hearted bitch.

“I figured,” she rolled her eyes, used to you wanting to stick your nose into ongoing cases, “So boys, what can I help you with?”

“Well. We were hoping you could give us a look into the file and maybe let my partner, here, have a look at the body?” Sam asked, gesturing to Dean.

“And you guys are really FBI?” she asked, looking to you, not them. You nodded. “Well, in that case, stay here a moment while I get it. The morgue is—“

“It’s okay,” you grinned, hopping up, “I know the way.” Nikki rolled her eyes.

Dean chuckled as you almost skipped out of the office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it feels short (it feels short to me) don't worry, the next update should be here in a day or three.   
> Comment box is below!   
> Many thanks and much love,  
> CrowleysOwnTempress


	12. I see everything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well.... Your secret is out. Bad idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being so patient guys!  
> I'm working on it, I swear.
> 
> As always, I love comments!  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You walked down the hallway back the way you came, Dean keeping up beside you.

“Should I be concerned that you have the way to the morgue memorized?” Dean asked, with a very small sliver of concern coloring his easy grin. You laughed.

“Nope. Not at all,” you grinned, “Let’s just say I’ve been here a few times.”

“Oh really? Miss Graduating-A-Semester-Early, are you a naughty, naughty girl?” Dean growled in your ear. Your cheeks flamed up and you couldn’t help the jolt of…. Energy, _yeah just energy_ , that settled in the pit of your stomach.

Becoming more at ease with him by the second, you only hesitated briefly before shooting back, “Only sometimes.” You boldly gave him an up and down look and gave him an exaggerated wink. His ears went pink and he cleared his throat. You inwardly cheered your amazed self. Never in a million years would you have thought your nerdy, socially awkward self could have such an effect on a man such as Dean. Yeah, your daydreams and wild imagination conjured up wild scenes and stories of hot guys and the occasional TV or movie star, but outside your head, well, you were about smooth and sexy as a dog with peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouth. Hunter had been different. He had been a friend first and you never really actively tried to flirt with him. The relationship had just sort of happened.

Dean, though. Dean was a different creature entirely. You glanced over at him while you walked. For some reason, something beyond even your all seeing senses, he was attracted to you. He was a ladies man, yes, that was obvious, but the way he looked at you last night ( _was it really only last night?_ ) when he held you to his chest, the laughter that made those gorgeous green eyes sparkle when you slipped and fell, the glances you caught out of the corner of your eye when he thought you couldn’t see him. It made you tongued tied and jittery. Your ADD was kicked up to higher levels than they had ever been (and that was something to behold because on your worst days your attention span was no more than that of squirrel).Your newly unlocked emotions were wreaking havoc inside you.

“This is it,” you said stopping outside a set of stainless steel double doors. You took a moment to compose yourself and prayed that Alex wasn’t in today. He was your Anderson when it came to Sherlock references, but he was much worse considering he had an infatuation with you and had wandering hands. You had broken his nose several times before but, man, the boy was either really dumb or… no, he was just really dumb. You pulled up a cold mask and walked through the doors.

“(Your name)! Long time no see! I was wondering when I’d seen you in here again.”

You sighed.

“Mr. Jones—“ you started.

“Johnson,” he corrected, not fazed in the least. You bristled.

“Whatever,” you growled, “Body from last Thursday. Which locker is it in and don’t keep me waiting I have a very busy schedule to keep.” Poor Dean looked like he had a case of whiplash.

“I love it when you get authoritative like that,” Alex winked, “Really gets me all riled up inside.” You had to suppress the bile that tried to work its way up your throat.

“I suggest you just do as I say and quickly. Oh, and tell you grandmother that she needs to clean the dead mouse out of her dryer vent before it soils the bunion wraps you use to wrap her ankles,” you sniffed.

He chuckled (not what you intended), “I’ll certainly do that.” He caught a look of Dean behind you and his cocky grin fell.

“And who is this Ken doll meets Stretch Armstrong?”

Dean looked offended. “My name is FBI very Special Agent Rudd. I’m here to examine to body, that is, if you are done wasting my and Miss (Your last name)’s time,” he growled. It was rather threatening, but it only served to send a good tingle down your spine. You kept your hard mask on to cover your look of pride. You read Dean’s eyes and he stared down the little weasel. They were alive with protectiveness and annoyance. Goodness, he just met the guy and Dean’s already as done with him as you. There was also a certain fierceness that crystallized those greens, one that by the looks of it, sent fear and a small (stupid) bit of defiance coursing through Alex’s body.

“Today,” you barked causing said terrified mouse to jump.

“Anything for you, (Your name),” he recovered, shakily gaining cheeky grin and a wink.

As he turned away, you glanced back to Dean. He was looking at you with a silent _What the fuck is going on?_ look. You flashed a grin and winked. You stalked in the direction Alex had went.

He was pulling the gurney out when you and Dean reached him.

“There you go, darling,” he said gesturing to the covered body, “a nice clean corpse for the intellectual beauty.”

You tensed and Dean pierced him with another, what could be considered a smiting look.

“Leave. Now,” you growled.

“As you command,” he said, walking around the gurney and past you. He stopped briefly and laid a hand on your rear. “You know where to find me,” he staged whispered with a slight squeeze. You spun around and smacked him with as much force you could muster. He stumbled back and Dean slid to stand in front of you. Alex cradled a hand to his face.

“Someday, my mistress,” he sighed theatrically, “You’ll see the value in me over jar-head pretty boys.” It was probably a good thing he chose that moment to leave, otherwise the restraining hand on Dean’s arm would have been nothing but a feather brushed off in the wind.

You sighed as the door closed and Dean relaxed slightly and spun to face you.

“What in the name of Hell was that?” He fired off.

“That,” you said gesturing to the door, “Was the obsessive bane of my very existence. Alex Johnson. Auburn graduate. One of two doctor’s assistants here in the morgue. Lives with his mother and grandmother. Both of which do everything for him, including washing his laundry. Hence the several grey rat hairs imbedded in his shirt from the dryer. Completely obsessive and has a severe case of the wandering hands. That’s not the first, nor the last time, I have slapped him. I’ve broken his nose on several occasions actually,” you said proudly, turning back to the body. You felt Dean’s eyes on you as you pulled the sheet back and sheepishly met his eyes, “What?”

He looked at you for a moment. Many things flashed through his eyes, so fast you almost didn’t catch them. Anger, jealousy, protectiveness, annoyance, awe, shock, wonder, confusion, appreciativeness, pride, and finally awe again.

“N-nothing,” he said with a slight shake of his head, “Let’s get on with this, yeah?”

“Suuure…” you said slowly. You leaned down and examined to wound on the victim’s chest.

“Victim is a Caucasian male, approximately mid- to late- thirties. Happily married for twelve to thirteen years, three kids, the youngest being around five to six years old. Works as a lawyer the next city over,” you launched off, Dean looking at you incredulously. Yes, you were showing off a bit, “Heart has been severed and removed by a sharp, serrated weapon, along the superior and inferior vena cava and the aorta. The right and left pulmonary veins and arteries, as well as the brachiocephalic, left common carotid, and subclavian arteries, have been snapped as if pulled apart instead of cut. There’s severe tissue damage around where the heart should be, as well as evidence of acute trauma and internal bleeding. Weapon marks cover the entire body ranging from light and small scratches to deep, long furrows scoring bone. Many broken bones. The bottoms of the feet are bruised, scratched, and cut. Victim was chased barefoot through a concrete area. If there’s even a minute trace of said concrete in his feet, I can narrow down the area the concrete was. There is also a trace of skin and possibly hair the witless mouse overlooked under the nail of his left pinky finger,” you finished, looking up with a casual air. You have done deductions more complicated than that with less to work with. Dean’s face, however.

“How did—What? How did you do that?” He stumbled, watching you go over to the storage drawers to find gloves, tweezers, and evidence jars. You shrugged.

“How? I don’t know. I see things. I’ve been able to do it for years. I see everything,” you said quietly, “It’s both a blessing and a curse.” You turned back to face him with a somewhat sad look on your face. He looked nervous and his hand unconsciously twitched towards the knife he had concealed at the small of his back. You held back a sigh. You knew this would happen. He thought you were a freak. Hell, he probably thought you were some sort of monster that he was supposed to gank. _Maybe he’s right._

You moved with slowness, warning him with your eyes when and where you were going to move. He didn’t say anything as you scraped the man’s feet and dug under the pinky nail. You threw the gloves away and put the tweezers into the jar of disinfectant.

“I’ve got all I need, if you’re ready to go,” you said, stopping halfway between him and the door. He seemed to be having an internal debate with himself.

“Uh… yeah. Right behind you,” Dean said, awkwardly. Alex was waiting outside the door.

“Find anything interesting?” he asked cheerily. That sparked a large flame of hurt fueled annoyance and you growled at him as you stalked past.

Your walk back to the office was quick and quiet. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t try. You steamed at yourself for being different. Weird. You were never normal. You never would be. You were stupid for letting yourself get all worked up over this Neanderthal. You stepped into the office where you heard (Bestie), Sam, and Nikki laughing. The warm and happy atmosphere cooled as you and Dean walked in.

Panic and confusion darted across (Bestie)’s face. You ignored it.

“I’ve got some samples to test. I’ll compare my findings to your team’s, when I’m done,” you said briskly.

“Okay. Agent Slade has a copy of the file. Let me know if you guys find anything,” Nikki said. Sam and (Bestie) stood and followed you out the door.

“What did I miss?” you ever so slightly heard Sam whisper to Dean. You didn’t have to look because you heard the brush of skin on collar as he shook his head. A universal indicator of _Not now_.

As you four got to the car, you held up the container holding the foot scrapings. “We need to go back to our place so I can analyze this. It will be much quicker and more exact in finding the hideout of these werewolves,” you said and slipped into the backseat of the passenger side. As far from Dean as you could possibly sit.

(Bestie) tried to catch your eye several times but you ignored her as you desperately tried to keep the hot tears of hurt from escaping. You could see Sam trying to do the same with Dean but he just stared ahead. _He’s probably deciding how to kill you and make it look like and accident to avoid scaring (Bestie) and Sam_ , you subconscious whispered. You just continued to watch the world zip by on the other side of the window.


	13. I'm not afraid of you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loud music and debris analysis should chase away the hurt. You've got a job to do. Then your best friend comes in and all Hell breaks loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.... The last chapter was bound to happen at some point. How else was Dean supposed to act to something so strange?  
> Don't hate me!  
> Love me!
> 
> Comment section is at the end.  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

The Impala pulled into the parking spot and you hopped out and was halfway to the elevator before the others had even reached for the door handles. You closed the doors on them and rode alone. You were running through possible concrete areas and comparing the possibilities to the appropriate internal maps, narrowing it down to places that, according to Sam, would be werewolf heaven. At least that’s what you were trying to do. There was an obnoxious undercurrent hum. It was deep laughs and green eyes. It was the gentle hold. It was the twitch of hand to his weapon.

The elevator opened and you walked to the door, unlocked it, and bounded inside, not bothering to close it all the way. You went straight to your room and put your phone on the docking station. The music was loud and drowned out any conversation from outside the room. It kept you focused on the work at hand. You pulled out your fancy microscope (a gift from one of your professors when you helped correct the doctor’s rather grim diagnoses) and pulled out your sample slides you had collected from all over the area.

It could have been minutes or hours, but you didn’t really care. You were almost done with your diagnostics when (Bestie) came in. You heard her open the door, even with the music blaring. She closed it behind her and hesitated.

“Do you have something important to say or are you just going to stand there and gape like a fish at instruments you’ve seen over a thousand times before,” you snapped. She sighed, used to how you got when you were in a mood.

“Drop the act. It’s just me,” she tried. She grabbed the rolling computer chair and pulled it next to you. “Dean told us what happened,” she added quietly. You stiffened.

“Fine. While you were all squabbling like group of barnyard hens, I was doing something productive. I’ve lowered it down to three pote—“

“Stop.”

“—ntial areas that would be consi—“

“(Your name)”

“—dered ideal werewolf habi—“

“I swear if you don’t shut up a moment, I will hit you.” You sighed and looked up from the microscope where you were currently studying the skin flakes from the nail bed.

“—tats the said victim could have been in.” (Bestie) smacked the back of your head hard enough to make you wince.

Rubbing the back of your head, you said,” There’s nothing to talk about. He thinks I’m a freak, just like everyone else. Killing me honestly crossed his mind. Did he tell you that? It did. I’ll work the case just like I always do, he will leave, I will take my exams, and that will me the end of it until we meet again for yours and Sam’s wedding.” She rolled her eyes.

“Are you going to let me speak at any point this afternoon?” she asked.

“I don’t know, do you have anything relevant to say?” you snapped. Her temper finally flared.

“Yes, I do. And you are going to sit there and not say a word until I’m finished,” she growled.

“And if I don’t?” you challenged. You knew exactly what was about to happen. This scene had played out like this many times before. You were both more stubborn than anyone on the face of the earth. The fact that you loved each other in a way only brothers such as Sam and Dean could relate too, made it that much worse. It meant that neither of you held back. If one sent the other to the hospital, it was okay. It would all be forgiven as soon as whatever disagreement got resolved or as soon as you both got drunk and said slurring heartfelt apologies to each other in a chick flick moment. It wouldn’t be the first time either conclusion played out.

“Then I will make you listen… And I rather do that without breaking furniture again,” she concluded, hand clenching into a fist.

“You do realize I’m not afraid of you, right?” you taunted. You stared each other down. With a mental shrug, you decided your course of action. Your newly freed emotions decided that you were done. Anger, jealousy, sadness, and frustration pulsed through you. You stood up and so did (Bestie).

“I’m going for a walk,” you stated, letting the warning flood your voice.

“No. You are going to sit and listen to what I have to say.” Her breathing picked up and her feet planted themselves. Heart rate up. Adrenal glands firing up. In a bit of irony only you and her could appreciate, the wind and chimes of the beginning of “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi started from the docking station. Humor flitted across (Bestie)’s eyes. Your move.

In milliseconds, you had the map of your room laid out. The closest (non-lethal) weapon, was your staff that was leaning 3.65 feet from your right hand. Maximum damage? Deep tissue bruising, potential broken bones. Avoid head and sternum. That would work.

(Bestie) seemed to guess exactly what you were thinking, an unfortunate result of living years together, and glanced at said staff behind you. She lunged but you were faster. Your hand closed around the staff and you ducked low, swishing the staff to knock her legs out from under her. You jumped over her, heading for the door. A hand snaked out and grabbed your ankle causing you to land heavily onto your stomach.

“Bitch,” you growled and rolled to your back aiming a swipe to the hand holding the ankle. She blocked it with a maneuver you had taught her, which resulted in her death grip of the other end of the staff. Your other foot jutted out and caught her stomach. She grunted and let the ankle go. You scrambled back and yanked the staff. You grunted in surprise as you noted how fast she was getting. In the time it took you to get on your feet,  she anticipated your yank and used it to get her to her feet, too. You stared at each other, braced and holding opposite ends of the staff.

“Just listen for a moment,” she pleaded.

“Just let me go for a walk,” you countered.

“No. You will sit and listen.”

“Then you have your answer.”

You shoved the staff toward her, unbalancing her. You let go and ran to your door. You snatched up your pair of dull, practice sai. A knife flew past your hand and embedded into the door.

“You asshole! I just repainted that door!” you whipped around screaming.

”And? You should’ve listened!” she yelled back, twirling the staff in her hands. It was too short for which threw the balance off but she could make due. You made sure to teach her how to adjust. You snarled and took a step towards her, intent on revenge instead of fleeing. She stopped twirling and settled into a ready stance, a grim look of determination locked into her face. She was not going to give in. Whatever she was trying to get you to hear must have been important.

Curiosity tickled the back of your mind. _NO! He thought you were a freak._ Everybody did, whether they said it or not. Anger pulsed. You whipped around and threw the door open. You got halfway down the hall before you felt a bolas wrap around your ankles. _Crap._ You hoped she hadn’t seen that.

“(Your name)! Stop acting like an idiot,” she yelled. You dropped a sai and worked the bolas off. _Yup, the weights are gonna leave a bruise._ By the time you got them undone, (Bestie) was almost on top of you and the boys were in the processes of standing up from the couches looking confused and unsure whether to jump into the fray or not.

       You smiled sickly-sweetly, “Excuse me for a moment, boys.” The staff came down on your chest, pining you to the floor. You knocked it off with the sai and rolled backwards into a crouch. You swung a kick to her knee and she jumped to avoid it. You stumbled back and stood and used the sai to catch and block the staff blow. You grabbed the staff with your free hand near her hands and yanked. It didn’t budge. _Well damn, that used to work_ , you sighed internally. Your senses picked up the boys rushing to grab both of you. Sam aiming for (Bestie) and Dean aiming for you.

She misjudged Sam and slacked off, thinking he was coming to help restrain you. You took that as opportunity to duck under the staff (yeah! finally a bonus for your height) and start to the door. This lost you valuable time in evading Dean. He had a confused but determined look on his face. Time seemed to slow.

His eyes. Regret, worry, confusion, determination. _Wait, what?_ You knew you shouldn’t have looked at him. You stumbled, giving him the exact opportunity he needed to grab the wrist holding the sai and yank you to him, gently yet effectively turning your back to him so he could pull you close pinning your free arm to your side and your torso to his. Too late you thought to jam a foot into his instep. Instead, he used his height advantage to pick you up. You squirmed with a grunt and he hit the pressure point in your wrist, making you drop your only weapon. He wrapped that arm around yourself and adjusted you so that you couldn’t touch the ground and was thoroughly captured. You stopped squirming with a disgruntled puff.

“I just wanted to go for a walk. Let me go,” you grumbled.

“Don’t let her go. She refuses to stop and listen for a moment,” (Bestie) huffed. Good. You got her winded, at least. Sam had let her go and she was straightening her shirt.

“Mind telling us what happened?” Sam asked, warily. You rolled your eyes.

“She refused to listen. When she gets in a mood, we usually end up either physically attacking each other or drinking too much. She choose to attack me with her staff,” she said, taking her hair down to fix her pony tail.

“I would have gotten away, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling giant Neanderthals,” you added, in a voice clearly mocking a witch off of Scooby-Doo. Dean chuckled.

“Well, I need to talk to you,” Dean said, adjusting his hold, “Are you going to behave if I set you down?” Genuine wariness colored his tone. You turned your head to look him in the eye and smiled innocently.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” you grinned, “Let’s find out, huh?” Dean thought for a moment and glanced at Sam. Sam shrugged and looked at (Bestie). She rolled her eyes again.

“I honestly don’t have a clue if she will or not,” she said. You smiled smugly and contemplated a plan for when he set you down. You may have look relaxed and cooperative but you were no means done yet. He looked down at you again. A mischievous look entered his eyes. _Dammit._

“Well, then I guess I can’t let your feet touch the ground,” he shrugged. Your furious looked triggered laughter from (Bestie). He lifted you slightly higher and walked you back to your room.

“It’s okay. If she tries to run again, catch her before she hits the door,” he called over his shoulder. They shrugged and walked to the kitchen. Dean however, carried you all the way back to your room and used his hip to nudge it closed behind him. He caught a looked at the knife wedged on the inside and raised an eyebrow at you.

“The bitch knew I just fixed it from the last time she did that,” you grumbled. He laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I do the fight scene good? Hope so.....


	14. Oh really, now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Dean wants to talk to you alone..... Is he gonna stab you physically? Emotionally? 
> 
> Am I, the writer, gonna stab you in the feels?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked the fight scene...  
> Anyways...  
> I didn't think I'd ever write 14 chapters!! Woo-hoo!!  
> What do you guys think?  
> Let me know in the comments.  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You struggled to hide your grin as you realized what was playing: Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. Dean looked at the phone and then back at you and just rolled his eyes. He thought for a moment and glanced around the room. You waited. Your limp feet swung slightly as he turned around. For some reason, all the hurt fueled anger that was raging through you dissipated the longer he kept you off the ground. In its place, embarrassment and plain, deep hurt emerged full force.

“Ah-ha!” Dean said triumphantly and maneuvered you to the bed. You tilted your head to look at him, confused. He laughed and set you on the bed. He pinned your legs down with his knee and pulled your wrists to each other so he could gather them into one of his huge paws. He reached over to the night stand and picked up the little remote to the docking station and turned the blaring music to more conversation friendly levels. You refused to look at him, instead choosing to take interest in the crocheted blanket (Bestie)’d grandmother had made you.

“(Your name)” He readjusted so that he sat on the bed next to you, your legs held by his hip and your hands together in one of his.

“Hey, look at me.” You didn’t.

“Please?” He sounded almost concerned. You counted stitches in the blanket. He sighed.

“Look, (Your name), I’m sorry, okay? And trust me, I don’t say that often,” he finally started, realizing you really weren’t going to look up. “(Bestie) told me a little about your ability. To be honest, I didn’t think that was possible. Well, at least, be human and be able to do that.” You winced.

“What I’m trying to say is that you probably thought I acted weird, but I-“

“You thought about killing me,” you said quietly, still refusing to meet his eyes, “When I turned around, your hand twitched to your dagger. It was an unconscious motion but motions like that accompany conscious thought. You were thinking about how you were going to kill the monster. Kill me.”

“Still being honest here, yeah. It crossed my mind. That’s because that’s what I’m used to. I come across something new and potentially dangerous, one of my first thoughts is how do I kill it,” he sighed. “I wasn’t going to kill you, though,” he said softly. His hand gently slid off your wrists and settled on your knee. You rubbed them and picked up the edge of the blanket.

“I knew you weren’t a monster. You bled red all over the place last night, remember?” he chuckled. You stifled a smile. “Monsters don’t come to me in the middle of the night to seek comfort from nightmares and memories,” he said gently. You felt tears start to prickle your eyes. You felt his hand cup your jaw and gently lift it up. You met his eyes. The jade greens were soft and warm, open and honest. He was being completely truthful.

“I think it’s pretty cool, actually,” he chuckled, hand dropping back down to your knee.

“Really?” you squeaked, not being able to stop the little flutter of hope budding in your chest.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Could be a really useful talent. (Bestie) told us about how you could read people from across a bar and be able to tell about what kind of person they are. I’m sure if me or Sammy had that kind of talent, it would have saved us a lot of awkward morning-after’s,” he laughed quietly. The sound filled your heart. He thought it was useful. He didn’t think you were a freak. Here he was, sitting on your bed, making you giggle and feel better. _Again_ , the fangirl whispered and winked. You smiled and looked at the blanket again.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, voice suddenly taking on a serious note, barely covered with a layer of slight humor. You looked up.

“Of course,” you answered, eyebrows coming together. Now it was his turn to not meet your eyes.

“You said –ahem- you said that you see everything, right?” he asked.

“That’s what it feels like, yeah.”

“And (Bestie) said you could tell a lot about a person from across the room. That true, too, right?”

“Mhmm…” you could guess where this was going.

“Well, umm….-ahem- umm…”

“C’mon, spit it out,” you smiled, nudging him gently with your hands intertwined in the blanket. He looked up and into your eyes.

“What do you… What do you see when you look at me?” he finished, eyes ablaze with concern and slight fear. A certain vulnerability that he hated showing but couldn’t seem to stop. You smiled.

“I see a strong man,” you stated, “not just physically, though you certainly have that goin’ for you.” He chuckled. “But mentally and emotionally. You’re a good man whose been dealt a bad hand of cards. You have scars, visible and invisible,” you watched as a hand ghosted over where a faint remnant of where the Mark of Cain had been, “But they make up who you are. You’re a protector. You’d do, and have done, anything in the world for those you love. You don’t believe you’re a good man because you think every time you try, you fail. You cover it up with a joke or a punch, but it still haunts you. Haunts the back of your eyes.” You pulled a hand from the blanket and set it on his and he looked up into your face again.

“But you are a good man. You get slammed with the newest hurdle and you try and try and try until you get over it. You keep getting new hurdles because every hurdle the world has thrown at you so far, you’ve kicked its ass and made it your bitch,” you chuckled and he grinned. You could see a wetness building in his eyes. You continued, “A bad person wouldn’t put their life on the line day in and day out for strangers. A bad person wouldn’t secretly let their little brother call dibs on an open bed,” he smiled sheepishly, “A bad person wouldn't pull an emotionally unstable woman he doesn’t really know into a hug to let her cry on his shoulders,” you finished softly.

“Dean. You ask what I see and I’m telling the truth here, I see a strong big brother out to do anything it takes to see his baby brother grin again, and that, Dean, is a good man.” He didn’t say anything. He just nodded and flipped his hand over so that he was holding yours. He studied his hand surrounding yours. A familiar tune floated to you from the still-playing phone. You rolled your eyes at God and whatever angels had to be watching this chick flick moment, because it was only thanks to them that “Kiss the Girl” from The Little Mermaid. You giggled and Dean looked up, confused. A pink spread over his cheeks and over the tops of his ears when he realized what you were giggling at.

Your giggles died down and left a smile in its wake. The inner fangirl squee’ed as a plan formulated.

“You know what else I see?” you asked, hand tightening slightly on his _. Ah-ha, yeap_ , exactly as you predicted. His blush darkened, making his freckles stand out, and his breathing hitched slightly. The pulse point on his throat picked up and his Adam’s apple bobbed. His pupils dilated slightly.

“What?” he said, lowly, a bit a huskiness mixing in.

“I see your freckles,” you giggled, he blushed more, “I see your pulse picking up,” you said quietly. “I see you pupils dilating.” You leaned closer. His eyes darted to your lips and back again as he copied your movements. You chuckled and leaned back again.

“Sha-la-la-la ain’t that sad? Ain’t it a shame? Too bad, you gonna miss the girl,” you sang along. He looked at you and you were happy to see the glimpse of happiness and mischievousness back in his eye.

“Now’s your moment,” Dean continued, only somewhat blushing over the fact that he knew the words, “Floating in the blue lagoon.”

“Ya-ya-ya!” You giggled.

“Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better,” he sang, growing more and more confident with each word, “She don’t say a word, and she won’t say a word, until you…” He leaned in close and you grinned even more.

“…kiss the girl,” he whispered. His lips met yours and fireworks exploded deep within your heart. _Finally!,_ your fangirl sighed. His lips were warm and comforting. Their slight chapped-ness made it all the more perfect. His hand that wasn’t holding yours came up to rest on your neck, the tip of his index just burrowing into your hair as his thumb rested on your cheek in front of your ear. Your brain disconnected from everything except Dean.

You were focused on the feel of his hand on your neck and the hand holding yours on his leg, the feel of his rough but somehow smooth lips moving against yours, even the scent of purely Dean surrounding you. It was nothing demanding or controlling. It was sweet and full of patience and promise and acceptance. You both were content to keep it like that, little gives and takes between lips. For once, you felt complete and happy.

The song ended and Dean reluctantly pulled away. Your eyes stayed closed for a few more seconds, committing that memory to a special place in your mind and heart. When you opened them, Dean was smiling at you, a dark pink coloring his cheeks and ears.

“You didn’t strike me as a Disney guy,” you hummed happily. Whether he did it purposefully or not, you couldn’t tell, but he took the hand that had held your neck, and pulled a Prince Eric as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah yeah –ahem- I ah actually really like Disney,” he mumbled with a guilty grin.

“Oh really, now?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “It started when Sammy and I were little. Dad was on a hunt and we were in some crappy ass motel room and had a crap TV. The manager stopped by and dropped off a VHS player and some movies when she realized that it was just me watching Sam. He was probably, I dunno, six? At the time? They were all Disney movies. We’d lay on the bed and watch ‘em for hours. Sam would eventually either get bored and find something else to do or fall asleep on my stomach or somethin’.” You smiled and pictured a little Dean reclining on a motel bed as if he was grown, humming along to “Be Our Guest” while a teeny tiny Sam played with cars on the floor. It warmed your heart and made you giggle.

“That’s probably one of the cutest, most adorable things I have ever heard,” you laughed. “And the sexiest,” you added with a wink when Dean rolled his eyes. Just then you heard a knock at the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I can hear the collective 'aww''s;)  
> We all knew that Dean has a soft spot.  
> At least you know he doesn't want to kill you or think you're a freak,
> 
> More to come, eventually!  
> Lots of Love!  
> (Comments go right below this)


	15. Leave it to good ol' Ms. Sarah...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who could be at the door?  
> Oh! It's ~~~~! What a pleasant surprise!
> 
> Oh wait....
> 
> (Comments are located below ;D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Everyone!! I so deeply apologize for the long hiatus between postings! Things came up and I was unable to think straight enough to let the words flow. I will try to keep posting more often but, being honest, I'm not sure how well that will go.
> 
> TO MAKE UP FOR IT THOUGH, I bestow the following.<3  
> To you, dearest loyal reader,  
> Much Love,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress  
> XOXO

You sighed. Dean glanced in the general direction of the front door with a mixture of annoyance and a remembrance of reality. You pushed the blanket off your lap and nudged Dean off your legs. He stood and held out a hand to help you up. You blushed and then grimaced as you set your injured foot hit the floor. The whole “running through the apartment and fighting your sister” thing didn’t do good things for your busted foot.

You grabbed your phone from the docking station and headed for the door, Dean following close behind. Your fangirl loved the fact that you could feel the warmth of his hand hovering over the small of your back as you hobbled down the hall. You walked around the corner to find Mr. Joe and his darling wife, Sarah, being ushered in by a grinning (Bestie). Sam stood in the living room, awkwardly trying to decide if he should walk up and shake hands or stay and be as unassuming as possible.

“(Your name)!” Sarah grinned.

“Hey Ms. Sarah,” you laughed and walked towards her. Her eyes darted to your foot and she rolled her eyes.

“(Your name), what did you do this time? Did you go to the doctor or did you just douse it in booze again?” she demanded, walking forward gesturing for you to lift your foot. You sighed.

“You know my bills would be outrageous if I went every time I hurt myself,” you giggled, lifting your foot to rest on her offered knee, “And if you must know, I knocked a bottle out of the fridge and then stepped on it.” You wobbled and Dean automatically steadied you from behind with hands on your waist.

Ms. Sarah harrumphed at your foot and then glanced up, releasing your foot. Seeing Dean’s hands on your waist, she caught your eye. You groaned internally as you notice her checking him out and liking what she saw. For a seventy-something year old woman, she had more spunk then you’d ever seen. Joe cleared his throat and eyed Dean. You resisted the urged to laugh as Dean quickly turned pink and snatched his hands back and took a couple of steps away from you.

“Anyways,” Sarah said, pulling you into a hug, “I brought you girls a basket of goodies.” She released you and turned to hug Dean with a mischievous look in her eye. “You two never eat well enough when y’all are taking finals.”

“Hey!” you protested, “We eat just fine during finals!” Dean’s eye jolted wide open and he jerked awkwardly. You hid a grin behind your hand and could hear Sam cough to cover his laugh. Sarah pulled away and winked at you.

“Nonsense,” she argued, “Half a poptart for breakfast and some cold pizza or cold Chinese food for dinner, is not eating fine. Now… you gonna be a lady and introduce guests to guest or am I going to have to embarrass you in front of the gorgeous examples of God’s handiwork?”

At that, you and (Bestie) laughed and Joe groaned.

“Ms. Sarah, this is Dean and Sam Winchester. They’re friends of ours who are staying with us for awhile, while they work a job. Dean, Sam, you’ve met Mr. Joe. This is his lovely and slightly eccentric perpetual girlfriend Ms. Sarah,” you introduced, walking over to stand by Dean, who was till a deep, dark pink as he held his hands behind his back.

“Oh honey, don’t sugar coat it. I’m completely crazy and love my kids, birthed or otherwise. I also love to admire all that is God’s creation,” she winked and pulled Sam into a hug. Dean snorted as Sam experienced the same ass-grab he got by the adorably lively older woman. She pulled away and winked at (Bestie). _Blasted woman already figured out you was claimed by who_ , you thought, _I love_ _her_. Joe cleared his throat again.

“Oh hush, you,” Ms. Sarah scolded, walking back over to him and slapping his arm playfully, “You said I could appreciate if I wanted to.”

“Yeah,” he replied, looking at his short little spitfire, "But only if I’m the one you run back and ask forgiveness from.”

“And how do you know that’s not what I’m aiming to do?” she grinned.

“Because at this rate, it looks like you might be more interested in-“ he started.

“OKAY!” you interrupted, desperately not wanting him to finish that sentence. Knowing him, it would be raunchy and fully uncalled for. For two extremely religious old people, they were entirely too open about their… umm… private life. He just laughed and pulled her into his arms, grumpy protective face instantly vanishing.

“So girls,” he said turning his attention back to y’all, "who won this time?” You blushed.

“Whatever could you be talking about, Mr. Joe?” (Bestie) asked grinning.

“I’m talking about the bruises blooming on (Your name)’s legs and your arms, and the staff and bolas scooted over there by the couch,” he nodded towards them. You and (Bestie) looked at each other then at the floor.

“(Your name) was being stubborn and (Bestie) wasn’t having it,” Dean chuckled. “(Bestie) won.”

“Gettin’ slow, (Your name)?” Joe chortled.

“No!” you protested, “She’s just getting faster…”

“We’ll have to see about that,” he grinned, winking at (Bestie).

“Bring it, old man!” (Bestie) laughed. You rolled your eyes.

“Mr. Joe helps us spar and gives us a little training here and there,” you explained, noticing Sam’s confused look, “It takes an equally spry and rebellious old coot to keep up with the whirlwind that is Ms. Sarah.”

“Huh, he only wishes he could keep up with me,” said the whirlwind.

“I try my damnedest,” he chuckled.

“So now what are you girls doing this evening?” she asked, giving you a look that screamed that you’d better behave.

“Oh you know us, just a lazy Saturday night,” you grinned, “I’ve got an exam I need to study for on Monday.”

“Mhmm, that’s all you’d better be doing,” she cautioned, “And none of the positive reinforcement crap. You do your studying in your room, by yourself. Understand?” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yes ma’am, but you know you don’t have to worry about me,” you grinned, completely aware that you were throwing your sister under the bus.

“That’s right. Maybe you girls should come stay with us tonight,” she teased, looking at (Bestie).

“Oh! No ma’am, that won’t be necessary,” (Bestie) replied just a hair too quickly. She and Sam blushed. She was currently in front of him with his arms wrapped protectively around her. You studied her for a second. Cheeks pink. Eyes bright. Ankles crossed as she leaned back against Sam. Oh. _Oh._

Ms. Sarah chuckled. Joe speared Sam with a look and Sam awkwardly cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well, I’ve gotta get back to the house. I think Jewel is set to have her pups any day now. She’s a cranky, neurotic, barking mess,” she chuckled.

“Really?” you ears perked up, “I thought she wasn’t due for a couple of weeks still.”

“We thought so, too, but lately she’s been pacing and not wanting to calm down. She’ll pace and then bark out the window and then go to her crate and hide,” Joe answered. You thought for a moment. _Odd… very odd_.

“I’ll come over and check on her after church tomorrow,” (Bestie) volunteered.

“That would be lovely, darlin’,” Sarah relaxed a little, “Why don’t both of you and the boys stop by and we’ll make a proper Sunday lunch out of it?”

“Sounds great,” you grinned, mind working several hundred miles a minute.

The couple left and you began pacing the living room, basket of goodies and moment with Dean pushed aside in preference of this new information. You stopped dead in your tracks and closed your eyes. You searched your mind and thought of Jewel’s characteristics: _three year old German Sheppard and Doberman mix, black with red muzzle and ticking, first litter, pups sire: Bruce the German Sheppard from down the street, normal disposition: extremely quiet, calm, sweet, perfect for elderly couple, spunky enough to keep up with Joe and Sarah, new disposition: nervous, pacing, barking, bedding down in safe, protected space. First litter jitters? Unlikely. What was making her act out? Werewolves?_

You thought about the nearby land layout. _Joe’s property was at the edge of town. Close enough that he had neighbors within shouting distance but far out enough that he had a good amount of land, bordered on the south east side by woods. Woods popular for deer, boar, dove and squirrel hunters during their respective seasons. Perks of living in the South._ Go wider, think structures, you thought. _Okay, wider. What was wider? Wider… Wider… Wider…. Oh! Four miles out from Joe’s back fence. The old abandoned Foxglove residence. Big estate abandoned for many years when the last heir caught a wild hair and moved to California. Property on automatic payment. Most likely forgotten about._

“That has to be it!” you shouted, whipping around to face (Bestie), face beaming.

“You’re doing it again,” (Bestie) sighed. They were all three sitting on the couch. (Bestie) nonchalant and annoyed, Sam curious, Dean concerned and confused. _Oops_. Guess you’d been thinking for longer than you thought.

“My bad,” you grinned, sheepishly. You sat on her recliner.

“Okay. Sam, you said there would probably be how many in the werewolf… er… clan?” you launched.

“About six or seven, why?” he replied, both brothers leaning forward when they realized that this was work related.

“Are they rather big when they… um… transform?” you questioned, you never thought you’d actually be saying something like that. Good thing your fiction novels prepared you for the event. You snickered inwardly at your own sarcasm.

“They can be,” Dean replied, “Why?”

“Is the transformation painful?” you asked.

“That’s depends on age and generation of the monster,” Sam provided.

“Again, why?” Dean asked again, urgency starting to invade his voice. You practically started vibrating in your seat.

“I think I may know where they are!” you exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.

“Well then, let’s go!” Dean grinned.

“Guys, chill out for a second,” Sam, apparently wanting to be the voice of reason. “We need to get prepared. Dean, we have to make sure the girls are ready. They’ve never fought a supernatural creature before.”

“Well, (Bestie) has,” Dean said and then immediately clamped his jaw shut. You shot him a look. You could feel a terror creep up and anger and embarrassment that he brought it up. You put up a cool mask. Dean looked over at you like a kicked puppy. An apology bright and forefront in his eyes and on his lips. Regret and worry coloring the rest of the jades. (Bestie)’s jaw dropped and looked straight at you.

“Wait, what?” she asked quietly. Hurt from your loss flared up deep in your heart. She noticed your face and the fact that you were struggling to maintain stoic. She looked at Dean and then back at you when Dean refused to elaborate because he didn’t want to get himself in more trouble. You closed your eyes for a second, gathering courage. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, meeting her confused and suddenly extremely worried look.

“Hunter,” you said quietly, “In the end, it wasn’t him. A thing called a shifter tied him up and took his form. That’s why the dagger marks weren’t on his body when the police found him.” Your hands started to shake.

“(Your name),” she started.

“I’ll be back,” you said in a low voice, “Need to walk.”

Dean started to say something, but (Bestie) shushed him. As you walked to the door, you noticed Sam’s confused but respectful look.

You glanced at (Bestie), “Tell him.” She nodded. You grabbed your phone and keys with shaking hands and walk out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies if its not up to my usual par. Be gentle with me, loves.
> 
> The comment section is below!<3


	16. Lazy Saturday nights are overrated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, you weren't prepared for that at all.  
> Heart racing and hands trembling, you need to get some air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings.   
> A little more feels to endure, then, well, more feels;)
> 
> As always, I love hearing your responses! Comments are wondrous things. *hint hint nudge nudge*  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

By the time the elevator arrived, you were shaking all the way to your elbows and your breath was tight in your chest. It dinged and you stepped in and pressed the button for the main floor. The doors shut and so did your eyes. Flashes of the past. _His_ face, smiling and unsmiling. _His_ laugh, _his_ growl. _His_ look of love, _his_ look of lust. No not _his_ look of—the doors dinged open.

You stepped out and walked to the park across the street. It had a jogging path that you used on your endurance days. You found your favorite tree on the opposite side and climbed up. You were shaking all the way up to your shoulders now, but you only slipped twice. You settled in and leaned back with a ragged breath.

_His_ hands curling in your hair in love, _his_ hands curling your hair in dominance. _His_ lips sweet and loving, _his_ lips cold and demanding. But not _his_ lips. _Its_ lips. A quiet sob wracked through you. _It_. A monster. Not your friend. Your boyfriend. You hadn’t known. _He wouldn’t be angry with you_ , you told yourself. He would know what it looked like and he would have understood. What would he tell you? You tried to recall his voice. You had to go deep into the catacombs for that. _Ah. There_.

“(Your name). You’re okay….”

“I understand…”

“Let go…”

“It is done…”

Those would be the phrases that are still clear. The first was when he had come to bail you out of jail for the first time. You had mouthed off to a cop. Not the first or last time it had happened, but it was the first that you had needed to call him because (Bestie) wasn’t answering her phone (you had eaten the cookie she had called dibs on earlier that day). The second was when you told him about your ability and how you felt different. The third was said when you were sparring with him one time. You had him in a head lock and were giggling like a mad woman. The last was just a flash. It was him reading a passage out loud in Sunday school. You took a deep breath. That’s what he would say. He wouldn’t want you to hang on to the past, especially if it was hurting you, even if it meant you moving on from him.

“(Your name)?” You tensed.

“Hey! (Your name)? You out here?” Wait… That was…

“C’mon, please be out here… (Your name)!!” Dean…

You looked beneath you. And there he was. Dean was walking around under the trees calling for you. Not looking up, you noticed, (Bestie) must’ve said you’d be around the tress and neglected to mention you might be in the trees. Dean sighed and started to move away, still calling your name. A pang of sadness went through you as you watched his back move away from you. Where did that come from? You silently crouched on the branch. You realized that you didn’t want him to leave you. You grinned though. You weren’t about to make it easy for him to find you, however.

“Dean. What are you doing out here?” you called. You stayed in your spot long enough to watch him turn around in confusion.

“(Your name)?” he called, walking back to your tree.

“Yes?” you called. Now he was really confused, you weren’t in the tree you had just been in. A trick you learned from too much friendly competition on Hide-n’-Seek: College Edition and watching the Hunger Games one too many times. He spun around.

“(Your name), where are you?” Dean called. You slinked down to a branch right behind him but far enough that he wouldn’t see you move when he turned around.

“Oh… Around.” You grinned to yourself, “You didn’t answer my question.” He whipped around and you paused in your movements.

“(Bestie) told me to come see if you were okay.” He called, scanning intently the low branches you had just been in, “Are you… Are you in the tree?” Your laugh sounded from his left and he jumped.

“Mayyyyybe,” you said, the sound of your voice traveling with you. He grinned.

“Okay, that was creepy,” he called out.

“Oh yeah?” you called out in another new spot. You didn’t stop moving. With his perceptiveness, if you stayed in one spot for too long, he’d find you.

“Please come down,” he said, “I wanna talk to you.” You paused.

“Why do I have to come down? Why can’t you come up?” you laughed.

“If that’s the way you wanna play it,” he chuckled, still scanning the trees, “I guess I have no choice but to come get you.”

“Try me!” you called out.

“So much for a lazy Saturday night,” he mumbled. You dropped to a branch hidden in deep darkness about five feet from him.

“Lazy Saturday nights are overrated,” you said quietly. He whipped around and his eyes landed on you as you moved.

“Ah-ha!” he grinned and ran to the tree. You squealed and darted up and jumped to the next tree. You heard him noisily crash up behind you. You laughed and clambered up higher to the next tree.

“You’re totally not gonna catch me being that loud!” you taunted, changing directions and quietly maneuvering to a spot behind him. Suddenly the noise stopped. You glanced to where he last was. He had stopped and was waiting for you to move or make a sound. You knew better.

“I will catch you, (Your name)” he called after you. You didn’t say anything. “(Your name)?”

He eased up to a higher branch and scanned. You sat quietly and watched him. Now you were getting bored.

“(Your na-“ The branch broke and he tumbled down a little ways. He was obviously okay so you laughed.

“Good thing this isn’t an ugly tree, or else that would have been excellent fodder for jokes,” you laughed and inched around him. Dean brushed himself off and looked around. You quietly flipped yourself upside down behind him, hooking your feet so you could hold your shirt down.

“Har har,” he said, “Okay, Katniss, please come down.” You giggled. He whipped around to find you right behind him. He grinned.

“Nevermind, you can stay like that if you want,” he chuckled, eyeing the fact that your boobs were almost falling out. You rolled your eyes and moved to flip down. He grabbed you just before you let go so that he was once again holding you too him, legs over one arm and back supported by the other. You blushed and put your arms around his neck. He looked at you for a moment taking you in. You looked at his eyes. Amusement, sadness, worry, happiness, and…something else. A decision clicked and he leaned in and pressed his lips gently to yours.

You relaxed in Dean’s arms. Your eyes closed and you forgot about everything. Werewolves? What werewolves? You were outside? How did that happen? You had been upset? Well, you obviously weren’t anymore. Something clicked inside of you. Later you would describe it as two pieces finally coming together, now? You just wanted more.

You began to move your lips slightly against his. Surprise jolted through him and moments later he experimentally began moving his, too. You grinned against his lips and sighed. He got a stroke of boldness and his tongue was suddenly asking gentle permission. You sighed again and met his. You two battled gently for dominance. His won and you felt him sweep in and taste you.

You shivered slightly and tightened your hands on the back of his head. He liked this apparently because he clutched you closer and his kiss gained momentum. He was still gentle but it held an energy that crackled between you. He pulled back only for you followed and taste him. You ran your tongue against the roof of his mouth and a small breathy moan accompanied his shiver. You pulled back and chuckled, resting your forehead against his. As both of your breathing patterns returned to normal, he gently pecked your lips again. And then again. Finally, one last time and he pulled his face away. You opened your eyes and grinned up at him. He smiled and gently lowered you to the ground.

“Do you accept my apology?” Dean grinned, confidently, as he wound his arms around your waist pulling you close to him.

“You call that an apology?” you scoffed. His jaw dropped.

“I don’t believe I heard a single ‘I’m sorry’ that whole time,” you said, looking up and putting a serious face on.

“Perhaps I should try again, huh?” Dean said, recovering an easy grin. He leaned down again and brushed his lips against yours. You immediately closed your eyes and leaned against him. He pulled away slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said lowly, his lips brushed yours again, “I shouldn’t have blurted that out like that.” His warm breath fanned across your face. In that moment, your fangirl grinned like the cat that ate the canary. _You can’t be mad at that_ , she grinned. She nudged your rational side _, ha! we will all go down with the ship!_ Needless to say, rational you rolled her eyes. You sighed.

“I forgive you,” you said quietly, pulling your head away only to rest it on his chest, “it was bound to happen eventually. I just had intended to prepare more for it.” He rested his chin on the top of your head. This felt right. You could feel it. The storm inside you calmed and you just felt at peace. More so than you had felt in a while. It was nice.

Your phone vibrated in your front pocket, which cause Dean to jump. You giggled and pulled away to check it.

_Hey you okay?_ (Bestie)

_Wait youre not doing him in the middle of the park are you?_ (Bestie)

_Nevermind I don’t want to know._ (Bestie)

_I take that back. GET BACK HERE AND TELL ME EVERYTHING._ (Bestie)

You sighed and locked your phone with a grin.

“That was (Bestie). She’s getting worried,” you said. Dean held on to your hand and you both walked back to the apartment.

Just before you opened the door he stopped you.

“(Your name)…” he started.

“Yeah?”

“I’m guessing it would still be pointless if I asked you to stay here while we took care of the werewolves?” His eyes tightened as he almost seemed to be begging you not to join in. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Dean. I promise.” He pulled you tight and kissed the top of your head. You pulled back and opened the door. (Bestie) was waiting with an excited look in her eyes.

_Well? Well? Didja? Huh? Didja?_ her eyes screamed.

You responded by rolling yours.

Sam walked out of the kitchen on the phone.

“Yup… Yes… That’s right… Um… No, thanks… Okay, cool. Thank you!” He pulled the phone away, “Okay pizza’s ordered.”

“Hey! Dean was supposed to cook tonight!” you playfully glared at Dean.

“I was starving and wasn’t about to wait for you go to the store and get all the stuff he needed,” (Bestie) complained. You grinned and punched her arm.

“You’re so impatient!” you nagged.

“That’s not the first time you or anyone else has said that to me,” she winked at Sam. Sam eyed her and grinned suggestively.

“Oh dude, really? I’m right here!” Dean complained.

“Yeah, and? Pay back is a bitch,” Sam laughed.

“Well, while we’re waiting for pizza, why don’t you guys show us how to kill ourselves a werewolf?” you grinned moving to stand beside (Bestie), pulling your hair into a high ponytail. (Bestie) nodded excitedly and pulled hers up too. Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged.

“We might as well. It’s not like they’re going to stay behind,” Sam decided. Dean sighed and started to move to his weapons duffle. Sam shrugged out of his over shirt and threw it on the back of the couch. He didn’t notice Dean and Dean crouched and held a finger to his lips and he winked at you girls. You grinned and, without warning, Dean launched at Sam.


	17. Winchester Smackdown.... I mean, Werewolf Training!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean versus Sam.  
> Wait, no!  
> No!  
> Crap...  
> Well, time kick some sweet ass and maybe get some laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahaha you love me, I promise.
> 
> The comment section is located at the end of the chapter!  
> XOXO Always,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

“Aaaahhhh!” Sam yelled as Dean latched himself around Sam’s shoulders, taking him to the ground. Dean was grinning but you could tell he was putting in some effort to bring the big moose down. Sam went to his knees, hard, on the wood floors, arms pinned to his sides.

“Lesson one,” Dean grunted, “They like to use their surroundings. If they can hide and sneak up on you, they will.” Sam heaved his shoulders and Dean lost his hold. With a now freed hand, he reached up and grabbed Dean’s bicep and pushed him backwards. This caused Dean to land on his backside long enough for Sam to scramble into a crouch facing him, while flicking his long hair out of his grinning face.

“Good thing for you guys is that they won’t know you’re coming,” Sam said, standing quickly to avoid a flying foot to the face from Dean, “So we will go in first, distract them, and then you guys’ll – oof!” While Sam looked to you guys to explain the plan, Dean rocketed up and managed to catch Sam by surprise with a head-butt to the stomach. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle and threw him to the side. Dean crashed into the side of the couch and stood up grinning, rolling his shoulders.

“Not bad, little brother,” Dean huffed.

“You’re getting slow, old man,” Sam taunted. They looked at each other second too long. You grinned and slapped (Bestie)’s arm.

The next thing you girls knew, the boys launched themselves at you. You jumped back and grabbed the staff, your staff, from its place against the wall. (Bestie) ran forward and dropped to her knees in a stereotypical movie slide between Sam’s running giraffe legs. You rolled your eyes, _always with the theatrics_. You watched long enough to watch her hop up and onto Sam’s back, effectively putting herself in a position of power over him, despite the size differences. You knew she could handle her own but it always made you proud to see her using the skills you taught her.

Dean laughed and your attention snapped back to your predicament. Upon seeing you grab the staff, Dean halted mid-step, a grin plastered on his face. You grinned an innocent smile.

“Oh c’mon, Dean. You’re not afraid of a little girl with a stick, are you?” you smirked, lazily spinning the staff around you.

“Not at all,” he grinned and took a step toward you, “Just teaching you lesson two.” You smiled and took a step to the left, to which Dean mimicked. You took another step and Dean followed.

“And what lesson would that be?” you laughed. Sam and (Bestie)’s scuffle was now at your back. Suddenly the sounds changed and you tensed, grin going wider and adrenaline re-amping your system.

“(Your—“ was all you heard before you swooped down and whipped the approaching Sam’s feet out from under him. He had flipped over onto the couch and dislodged (Bestie) in the process. He had tickled her and held a hand over her mouth until he realized what Dean was telling him to do. He straightened with a hand still on (Bestie)’s mouth and didn’t let go until the last possible second before lunging at your back.

Sam fell like a tranquilized rhino. You grimaced. Your downstairs neighbor was going to kill you… again... You quickly scrabbled on top of him and pinned his huge arms behind his back by his elbows. Your short stature meant he could try to buck you off as much as he wanted but you could dig your heels into his hips and not budge. The next millisecond, you realized Dean was lunging for you, too.

You shifted forward so that you sat on Sam’s pinned arms, keeping him stationary as (Bestie) came bolting over the couch. You swung your staff, and Dean grabbed at it. This kept his distracted just long enough for him to get tackled to the ground again. (Bestie) grabbed your staff and you released it to her. She pinned Dean by placing the staff to his throat. Not hard enough to choke into unconsciousness, but enough to be uncomfortable. He went to grab her waist and she stood, putting her just out of his rather long reach. He changed his trajectory to grab her arms.

“Nuh-ah-ah,” she grinned, and dropped back to her knees, pinning his wrists to the floor.

“Oooh,” you cringed, the last time she got you like that, you had bruises on your inner forearms for weeks. Sam grunted under you.

“Okay, okay, (Your name). My arms are starting to cramp,” he groaned, trying to roll over and dislodge you.

“And?” you grinned putting your free hands on your hips. You ruffled Sam’s hair and laughed.

“Ahh! Stop!” he complained.

“Tell your brother to call a truce,” you demanded.

“Don’t do it Dean!” Sam laughed and tried to roll over again.

“Never!” Dean grunted from under (Bestie). He bucked upwards to try to get her off by rolling her forward.

“Bad idea, Dean,” she crooned and leaned forward slightly, increasing the pressure on his arms. He hissed and relaxed back down. He got a sudden mischievous look in his eyes and picked up a wolfish grin.

“Well, I have to say, at least the view is good,” he chuckled and unabashedly stared at her boobs.

“Hey,” Sam grunted, “That one’s mine.” You felt his shoulders stiffen beneath you. (Bestie) laughed.

“He’s only saying that because he doesn’t see the position you’re in,” she winked at Sam. It was Dean’s turn to stiffen. She had a point. Dean couldn’t see you. He tried to turn his head but she wasn’t having that. She tutted at him.

“Now, Dean,” she said, a wicked grin spread across her face. _You had taught her so well!_ “You really don’t want to see, I promise.” You laughed and leaned forward to whisper to Sam.

“You wanna join our side and mess with Dean or be a stick in the mud?” you asked quietly. Sam twisted to look at you and grinned exactly like a little brother should when getting his big brother back. You considered a moment and looked back at (Bestie).

_Can you turn him so he can see us, without letting up?_ you mouthed. She looked down at Dean for a moment.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Dean demanded.

“Groan!” you laughed in Sam’s ear. He flashed a grin and let out a chuckling groan.

“Sam?” Dean tensed, “What the hell are you doing?” (Bestie) looked up at you and then nodded. You laughed and let Sam up. He rolled his shoulders and stayed out of Dean’s line of sight. He chuckled. Dean tried, and failed, to buck (Bestie) off again.

“I’m warning you, Dean,” you called, teasingly, “Call truce.” He thought for a moment and the grinned again.

“Not in this lifetime,” he challenged. You shrugged.

“You asked for it then,” you laughed.

“Don’t be getting any ideas, now,” you added to Sam. He blushed.  You pushed Sam onto his back and straddled his chest. Because of the huge height difference, when you gathered Sam’s wrist in your hands and went to pin them above his head, your chest was practically shoved in his face. His face went immensely red and he tilted his head up to look only at (Bestie). She laughed. Once you were settled in, you looked to (Bestie) and nodded.

“You still wanna see what’s going on, Dean?” she laughed. He responded by trying to wiggle his arms out from under her knees. She darted one arm up to replace the staff and used her free hand to throw the staff to the side and gather up the closest hand from under her knee. In this position, she scooted him around so he could see yours and Sammy’s position.

He blushed deep red, “Truce! Okay, truce! You girls win.” You laughed and let Sam up. (Bestie) let Dean up and helped him to his feet.

“So, what was that lesson supposed to be?” you asked, tucking your hands into your back pockets.

“That they work together to bring you down so you have to watch out around you,” he grunted, rubbing his forearms.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “We don’t really have to worry about that.”

“Where did you guys learn to fight like that?” Sam asked, rolling his shoulders again and stretching his arms. You shrugged.

“Most of it was me being a nerd and learning everything I could about various fighting styles and weaponry,” you said, “Just random stuff. After college started and my talent started to ah…. Attract attention, I insisted that (Bestie) learned. In case she was ever in trouble and I was too slow.”

“She was teaching me in the park when Joe came over and offered to help train us,” (Bestie) added, “(Your name) is still way better than me, she started way before college, but I can still kick major ass if I need to.” The boys nodded appreciatively.

“So,” you said, “Now that you know how well we fight, how do we actually kill the sumbitches?” Dean walked to their weapons duffle and tossed you a pistol. You caught it easily and gripped it tight. You tested its weight and checked the chamber.

“That easy?” you asked, “Just kill shot it?” Sam eyebrows hit his hairline.

“Silver bullets,” Dean said, crossing his arms, “Right to the heart. How’s your aim?” You met his eyes with a determined look.

“I can hit a dime at thirty yards,” you preened. Dean looked impressed.

“But what about silver arrows? Will those work?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Dean dropped his arms to his side and thought for a second and then looked at Sam, who shrugged.

“I don’t know, we’ve never tried it,” Sam answered, thoughtfully.

“Hmm…” you said, giving the gun to (Bestie) for her to test out.

“Why do you ask?” Dean wondered.

“I’m better and more comfortable with a bow,” you shrugged.

“It’s true,” (Bestie) added in, centering the bottle on the coffee table in the sights, “If she’s scary with a staff or gun, she’s downright blood-chillingly terrifying with a bow.” Dean eyed you again, this time you noted his eyes.

His pupils were slowly going back to normal as the adrenaline eased out of his system. They held a very large amount of pride. He was appreciative and surprised at the fact you could fight so well. The longer he looked at you, the more you noticed his pupils starting to get ever so slightly bigger again. _Oh_ , you thought, _so a girl that can kick ass turns him on_. Your fangirl winked and tugged at the black leather jacket she now wore. _Good thing we’re such a badass_ , she laughed.

“—get it!” (Bestie) was saying. _Wait, what?_

She bounded to the door and Sam followed, pulling out his wallet. She opened the door and lo and behold our knight in shining polyester!

“Hey Georgie,” she laughed.

“Hey (Bestie),” Georgie the Pizza Man replied. He leaned around her, “Hey (Your name)!”

“Hey you,” you laughed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you purposely watch for our address to pop up on the delivery list,” (Bestie) joked, handing the pizzas to a fumbling Sam. You stepped up and took them before he could drop them.

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just order pizza to see my gorgeous face,” he laughed. Dean looked at him with a slight territorial look. Georgie noticed and his eyes darkened.

“So, (Your nickname), gonna introduce little ol’ me to Mr. Hunky?” he purred. Dean’s eyes widened and you laughed.

“Sorry, brother, but Dean, here, doesn’t play for your team,” you grinned, snaking your free arm around Dean’s waist with a wink. Georgie pouted.

With a tragic sigh, he said, “Why are all the hot ones straight?”

(Bestie) laughed, “Normally, I say why are all the hot ones gay.” Georgie winked and grinned.

“You wanna know why?” He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. (Bestie) busted out laughing and went a little pink. You rolled your eyes.

“You’re just wrong,” (Bestie) finally was composed enough to reply.

“But I am just oh so right,” Georgie smiled coyly and sent another suggestive wink at Dean, “But, alas, not at the moment, unfortunately. Gots to be on my way.”

“Okay,” you giggled, “We’ll see you later, Georgie! Be careful out there, okay?”

“Always, babe,” he grinned and flounced down the hall, back to the elevators. You took the pizzas into the kitchen and got plates out of the cabinet.

“You know the most… um… interesting people,” Dean commented, grabbing a cold beer out of the fridge.

“Luck of the draw, I guess,” you grinned. In a bold move, you wiped pizza sauce on Dean’s nose. Grinning, he crossed his eyes and attempted to reach it with his tongue. You giggled. He stopped and pegged you with a soft look. Your fangirl waved a folding fan in her face southern-belle style. Then (Bestie) walked in.

“I’ll call dibs on picking the movie to watch while we eat!” she called out, grinning ear to ear and looking smug. She caught your eye. She winked. She knew exactly what she just interrupted.

_Bitch_ , you called her lovingly. She just shrugged and grabbed a plate.

“What movie?” Sam asked, coming in right after her.

“Hmm…” She said, opening the top box’s lid, “How about… Pitch Perfect?” You grinned.

“Yes!” you laughed. Dean and Sam looked at each other, confused.


	18. The Movie Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pizza, beer, awesome movie, remnants of adrenaline highs.  
> What could possible go wrong?
> 
> Or perhaps.... very, very right??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minions *ahem* My bad, Readers!  
> This is the last one I have prepared for you right now. Let me get some studying done, and I'll jot down maybe a few more chapters.  
> Rest assured, there is more to come eventually<3
> 
> Comment, Commentaire, Yorum, Athugasemd.  
> xOxO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

“What’s Pitch Perfect?” Sam asked, grabbing a plate.

“It better not be some chick-y musical,” Dean grumbled, tucking his beer into the crook of his arm and taking a huge bite of his top slice of pizza. You and (Bestie) gasped in mock shock. You went even so far as to flutter a hand over your heart.

“You guys seriously haven’t seen Pitch Perfect?” (Bestie) asked.

“Umm hello, Monsters don’t tend to say ‘hey this is an awesome movie. We’ll wave a white flag and not kill anyone while you guys watch it!’” Dean complained.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you grinned, tucking your glass of ice and a Sprite under your arm, “Oh, and you have to watch the whole thing before you can say if you like it or not.” Dean rolled his eyes.

You all settled in the living room as (Bestie) popped the movie in. You plopped onto the floor in-between the couch and the coffee table so you had a flat surface to set your plate. Dean settled in behind you and placed a socked foot on either side of your butt. You threw a grin over your shoulder and he shrugged like he didn’t know what you were grinning at, but a smile played at his lips.

You and (Bestie) laughed and sang along, even downing your drinks so you had empty cups for her audition scene. You heard Dean chuckle a few times and every time you glanced back at him, relaxation was written in every inch of him. Arm thrown over the back of the couch, beer bottle balanced on his knee, leaned back, legs stretched to either side of you. As if he sensed you looking at him, he would look down at you with a warm look. After a few seconds, he would go pink and nudge your side with his foot with a nod back to the tv. You’d smile and whip back around.

At the end of the movie, you stood and stretched. Your shirt rode up and a sliver of your stomach was exposed. Dean looked up at you appreciatively. You blushed and pulled your shirt back down.

“So? Whatcha think?” you aimed at Dean, starting to gather plates and cups.

“Better than I thought,” he grinned, standing up and taking the plates from you. You made a noise of protest.

“What?” he asked, green eyes lighting up.

“What are you doing?” you protested.

“Taking the dishes to the kitchen, while you and (Bestie) go get pj’s on and Sam peruses your movies for something else to watch,” he laughed. You put your hands on your hips.

“We’re the host, we do the chores. Guests are supposed to relax and be taken care of,” you argued, reaching to take the plates away.

“You can take care of me later,” he winked suggestively, “But for now, I will show appreciation for the lodgings by cleaning up the mess.” You blushed and dropped your out stretched arms.

“Nice try, darlin’,” you giggled, “But if you wanna do housework, suit yourself. In fact, I think the floor needs to be mopped and the knick knacks dusted.” Dean rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen. You watched after him. Yes, you were watching his ass but hey, you doubted there wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t. You turned back to Sam, who was glancing at the movies.

“He doesn’t strike me as a man who would do housework,” you commented, taking Pitch Perfect out of the machine and putting it carefully in the case. Sam chuckled.

“He may seem big and badass but he’s actually a huge nester,” Sam said, “We have this sort of ‘home base’ kindof thing we call the Bunker. The first week we were there, Dean cleaned the entire main living quarters, stocked the kitchen, cooked, and set up his room, immaculately. Even gave me a max level bitch-face when I missed the trashcan in his room with a gum wrapper.” He smiled at the memory. You pictured Dean in a pink, flowery apron, running around with a duster. You laughed. You handed Sam the movie case and walked to your room. You changed into the pj’s you wore last night and walked to the bathroom to clean your foot and let it air out before bed. When you came out, the others were settled and waiting on you.

“You comfy, Sam?” you laughed, noting how somehow both him and (Bestie) managed to squeeze onto the recliner, under a blanket. (Bestie) picked her head up off of Sam’s chest and shot you a bird. You pretended to catch it and lovingly cradle it to your heart.

“You promise?” you mocked. She ginned and rolled her eyes.

“So what are we watching?” you called out, heading to the kitchen.

“Don’t laugh,” Sam called back, “but we’re watching Beauty and the Beast. It was my favorite when I was little because I used to pretend that I was a nice Gaston and try to hunt and kill the Beast, a.k.a. Dean, to save the beautiful Belle.” You chuckled as you fixed yourself a rum and Coke.

“That’s adorable Sam,” you laughed, making your way back to the living room. You hesitated next to the couch. _Hmm, couch next to Dean or comfy papisan chair?_ Dean patted the couch next to him. You shrugged and sank down next to him. Close, but far enough that your knees just barely brushed his when you tucked them up. Dean grabbed your glass and took a large swallow. He misjudged the contents and started coughing.

“You okay, Dean?” Sam asked, immediately concerned and whipping his head around to look at his brother. You laughed.

“He’s fine. He took my drink without asking and was startled at the contents,” you chuckled, snatching your glass back. Dean nodded, still coughing, and gave Sam a thumbs up. He relaxed and (Bestie) resettled on his chest, pressing the play button. Dean gave you a mock evil glare.

“Shoulda asked,” you whispered with a wry grin, “Just be glad it wasn't the bourbon.” He flashed a grin and pretended to shudder at the memory. You settled against the couch and cradled the glass in your lap. Soon, you were immersed in the story of Walt Disney’s fifth official Princess.

You were grinning like mad Belle used her sarcasm to undermine Gaston’s intelligence when Dean’s hand in your lap startled you. He smirked and took the Coke out of your hands and took a healthy swallow. You rolled your eyes and returned back to the movie. Dean got up and walked to the kitchen. You watched his ass again out the corner of your eye until he went out of view. After a few minutes, Dean returned now in lounge pants and a soft t-shirt, holding two glasses of what you assumed was more rum and Coke. He handed you your glass wordlessly and settled back in next to you. You briefly noted that he had settled in closer to you, his thigh pressed against your knees. _Warm,_ your fangirl winked. Your rational side shrugged as if she had a point. You refocused on the movie.

Lumiere and the gang started singing ‘Be Our Guest’ and you sighed happily. Out of nowhere, you heard a deep rumbled hum beside you. You grinned and looked at Dean. The humming stopped and in the glow of the tv, you saw him blush. You chuckled and watched the screen, hoping he would start humming again. You heard a new hum start from the recliner. (Bestie) chuckled and snuggled closer as Sam started to actually sing softly. Your still-fresh emotions shot a pang of jealousy through you. _Why can’t I get cuteness like that_ , you complained and then realized, _oh wait,_ you were the one holding back. You blushed.

Dean shifted again, arm going around the back of the couch, behind your head. He began to sing along with Sam and Sam grinned happily over at Dean. You watched Sam’s face. He, too, was immensely relaxed. Happiness shone from his hazels and ease radiated off of him. You wondered when was the last time the boys had a chance to just sit and relax for an evening. Probably way too long. You glanced at Dean again. He was watching you as he sang.

You blushed even deeper and your eyes darted to his lips and his deep voice sang, “If you’re stressed, it’s fine dining we suggest.” You giggled. When Mrs. Potts sang, you hesitatingly and quietly sang with her, turning your heated cheeks back to the screen in order to remember the words. You glanced back a Dean and he had a huge grin on his face as he and Sam took up the chorus’ part again. He looked at Sam and you saw a fragile happiness take over his eyes. He was wary to let himself be happy. You watched as memories made his voice die out and his eyes shift out of focus slightly. You wondered what he was remembering. A sort of sadness tried to push its way in. _Can’t have that now, can I?_ you mused.

You twisted around and closer to Dean so that you tucked yourself into his side, head on his shoulder, facing the movie, and knees resting on the top of his thigh, hands curling around your glass and resting on his stomach. Dean stiffened slightly until you settled. When you had, he sighed contentedly and wrapped the arm that was on the back of the couch, around your waist, pulling you closer. You glanced up through your lashes with a shy grin. He looked down softly at you with and easy smile. When you turned back to the tv, you felt lips press against the top of your head. You closed your eyes and leaned into him.

You heard a quite chuckle from the recliner. You open your eyes and looked at Sam. He bent his head down whispered something to (Bestie). She lifted her head and looked at you. A smile brightened her sleepy face. She covered it up with a mock annoyed face and stuck her tongue out at Sam. He laughed softly and kissed he nose. She blushed and quickly tuck her face back down into his chest. You smiled. A yawn tugged itself from somewhere deep in your chest and you cuddled impossibly closer to Dean’s chest.

The movie ended and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Dean moved to sit up and you slowly pulled yourself to a sitting up position. Over the course of the one hundred and ten minute movie, you and Dean had shifted to where he was laying underneath you, one arm tucked behind his head, the other curled up and around the small of your back, your ear pressed to his chest so you were torn between listening to the movie and listening to Dean’s calm, strong and steady heartbeat.

You rubbed your eyes like a child and he chuckled quietly. You glanced at Sam and (Bestie). They had fallen asleep in the recliner. Sam’s back would be killing him in the morning. You chuckled at the sweet sight. Dean stood and picked the blanket off the floor and gently draped it back over them. You saw the gentleness and love in his eyes. He stood watched over his little brother and his girl for a moment. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, so you flopped back on to the couch cushions, too soft now that Dean’s hard, warm body wasn’t under you anymore. _So graceful_ , your rational side mocked. You ignored her.

Dean chuckled again and picked up the glasses and, quietly, took them to the kitchen. Your eyes fluttered closed, content to just stay where you were.

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” a deep whisper sounded above you, sounding louder than it was in the now dark living room. You cracked and eye open.

“Too t’red ta moof,” you mumbled against the couch. He chuckled again. The next thing you knew, he was gently picking you up and tucking you into his chest. You grinned sleepily and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You done messed up now,” you mumbled.

“Oh? How so?” he asked, looking down at you as he walked to your room.

“Gonna expect this more often now,” you sighed, tucking your face into his neck. Your lips brushed his neck and a shiver ran down Dean’s spine and he let out a happy sigh.

“Whenever you want, darlin’,” he whispered. This barely registered, but it did none the less. Fangirl, even though exhausted, sighed happily as if to say _told ya so_.

Dean reached your room and set you down on your bed gently. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and hooked it to the charger and slipped your glasses off. Dean moved back to the door and you sat up with a quiet noise of protest. He stopped.

“What?” he asked, confusion, mixed with the slightest bit of hope, swirled in the emeralds. You gave him a sleepy stern look and deliberately slid over closer to the wall and flipped the blanket down in front of you. His eyes flicked to the open space and back to you, not daring to hope that you meant what he thought you meant. You rolled your eyes.

“Stay,” you crackled. A big boyish grin spread over his face and he closed the door gently. He walked back around the bed and grabbed your side, pulling closer to him.

“Hey,” you groaned. He laughed quietly.

“Hey yourself,” he smiled, “I’m the big spoon.” He kissed your lips lightly and climbed over you to get on the side of the bed closest to the wall. You smirked, _of course he would take my spot_.

“What now?” he asked, settling under the covers and pulling a pillow under his head, lifting the blanket for you to lay against him.

“Nothing,” you yawned and scooted close to him. This was another advantage to your height differences, you could face him and tuck your head comfortably under his chin. He put a hand under his pillow so that your head rested on his bicep. His other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You blushed slightly and then sighed. You curled your bottom arm the rest around your middle, just above his arm and your top hand curled up next your face.

You never dreamed that this would be so comfortable. You and Hunter had tried to lay like this but, it always ended up with your hair getting in his mouth or your arms being uncomfortably cramped because Hunter’s reach was quite long enough for his arm to rest comfortably over your side. With Dean, you had no such problems. Another sigh of happiness escaped your lips and you felt Dean’s lips press against your hair again. You slept deeply, soundly and peacefully for perhaps the first time in years. You even actually had a good dream for once. You knew it was good because it involved a very warm, jade-eyed cuddler.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Disclaimer: These movies are not mine (obviously) but they are pretty daggum awesome.


	19. We're in so much trouble.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good morning to you too;D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Battling time commitments and writers block is a pain in the butt!  
> Here's a nice long chapter to (hopefully) tide you over until the next update!
> 
> As always, Comment below! Much Much Much Love<3  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You came to consciousness slowly and luxuriously. You were half on your side and half on your stomach with one knee pulled out in front of you and your hands under your pillow. You grinned to yourself as you noted the warm weight against your back and curling around your waist, tucked under your stomach. A leg was thrown over your straight leg and a quiet snore resonated somewhere behind your head. You sighed and shifted closer to Dean. He grunted and flexed the arm around you, unconsciously pulling your even closer. You shook slightly with your controlled giggled.

You peeled your head from the pillow beneath you and attempted to turn your head to look at him. _Oops_ , you thought. Your pony tail was caught under Dean’s chin and under his head. You slowly and gently pulled your head forward, extracting said mass of hair. Dean grunted again and shifted his head with a slight crease between his eyebrows. Embracing the opportunity, you whipped the rest of your pony tail out and behind you so you were now facing him. You rested your cheek back on the pillow.

Being this close, you could see every feature in great detail without the aid of your glasses. The crease had faded and his face was peaceful. It took years off. Your eyes traced the smooth arches of his eyebrows and down his nose. He had little bumps of cartilage where his nose had been broken but otherwise it was almost perfectly straight. You continued to trace the flowing curves to his lips. Full and warm, slightly chapped but you knew how soft they were. He had little, fine laugh lines set at the corners of his slightly open mouth. You giggled slightly as you realized he was drooling a little onto your pillow. _The ultimate sign of relaxation and deep sleep_ , you mused. You wondered again how long it must have been since he was able to get a decent night’s sleep. Judging from the remnants of darkness under his lashes, you guessed it had been longer than he would care to admit.

As you watched, the corners of his lips twitched up and into a small smile. It brightened his face considerably, transforming it from the vaguely boy-ish content look into what you could only describe as a delighted mischievous teen. You felt a sleepy grin crinkle your eyes. Just then, Dean gave a rather unattractive snort as whatever he was dreaming about kicked him back to consciousness. You laughed quietly, shoulder shaking against his chest.

His eyes blinked slowly open, eyes so green they reminded you of some sort of emerald-jeweled leaves. A true smile broke the trance and he shifted his head to look at you with both eyes. Feeling a cold wetness under his cheek, his eyebrows scrunched and his lifted his head slightly and looked down at it. Pink invaded his cheeks and the tops of his ears and he gave a groan of embarrassment. He brought his hand from your waist and wiped his mouth and pushed the pillow behind him.

“S’ry,” he rumbled. That one word sent currents from your ears to your heart and from your heart to your stomach, where it radiated out to the rest of your body.

“’S’okay,” you whispered, giggling. You pushed the pillow under your head so that he could have half. What? How could you not be nice when you wake up to a handsome guy drooling on your pillow? He grinned and set his head back down, nose brushing yours. Your crinkled your nose and grinned back. He wrapped his arm back around you and pulled you closer to him. You twisted so that you were facing him, one hand on his chest and the other reaching up under the pillow and loosely gripping one of the slats of the headboard.

“Mmmmm…G’morning,” Dean rumbled, pressing your stomach to his. His eyes traced your face and lingered on your lips before locking back up with yours.

“Morning,” you smiled. It was then you realized how bright it was in the room. Your eyes went wide and you glanced at the wall behind Dean’s head. Yup, just as you figured. Judging from the brightness of the sunlight of said wall, you’d guess it was about a quarter after ten. Sunday School would have started by now. By the time you got up and ready, you’d be late for Service. You closed your eyes again and groaned.

“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Dean asked, confusion scrunching his brow as he gave you and up and down look, shoulders tensing.

“Nothing,” you sighed, opening your eyes, “Just forgot to set an alarm for Church. Ms. Sarah is going to kill (Bestie) and me for missing again.” You smiled and pecked the tip of Dean’s nose to show that you weren’t entirely too put out by the new development. He chuckled.

“That actually scares me a little,” he growled. You couldn’t describe it as actually talking because the deep richness of his sleep voice was too sexy and rough to be considered human.

“Joe is going to be wanting to skin me alive,” he continued. This got a good laugh out of you.

“This is very, very true,” you sighed. His eyes searched yours. You couldn’t stop from reading between the lines. Pure and unadulterated joy shone in the greens. Comfort and relaxation. Yes, and even a flash of fear at the thought of facing Joe. You guys didn’t do anything but you could tell Dean was kindof embarrassed as if Joe was her dad and had actually walked in on them. The longer Dean looked at you, the more you noticed something else growing in his eyes. Something warm and caring. Something that you had seen before, you thought, but your sleep addled brain couldn’t peg where, when, or what it was.

Dean’s breathing picked up and his pupils slowly dilated. Your lips pulled apart from themselves on their own accord and your eyes flicked down to his lips and back. Dean took that as an invitation and gently pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes closed as you kissed back. It stayed innocent for a while, just you and him exchanging comfortable pecks and maybe a little bit of tongue teasing.

Something sparked though. Dean groaned and pulled you impossibly closer. Your chest pressed tightly to his. You could feel his hard stomach meshing with your soft, slightly round one. Could feel his hips pressing hard against yours. Excitement jolted through you and you kissed him deeper, rubbing your hand up from his chest, across his clavicle, up his neck, coming to rest at the base of his skull where your fingertips carded through the short hairs they met there.

Dean growled again and gently rolled you onto your back, hips pressing down against yours. You noted a distinct hardness growing against your thigh. You sighed, the end of which sounding rougher in an almost groan. You pulled your other hand to rest on his chest and the hand that wasn’t locking you against his body, propped him above you. Just enough of him was on top of you that he was comfortably pressing you into the mattress but not enough to crush your smaller body. Dean pulled away to catch his breath and looked down at you.

“Mmmm….. _very_ good morning,” you purred, shifting the thigh under him just a little. His eyes rolled back and fluttered slightly and with a groan he attacked your mouth again. His tongue swept inside your mouth tasting you. A flash of embarrassment jolted through you when you rational side reared her head with a simple _morning breath_. Dean didn’t seem to mind as he flicked the tip of his tongue across the roof of your mouth. You let out a breathy groan as the hand at your waist moved up a little and massaged the tender spot on your ribcage.

He chuckled and rocked his hips just once and lightly across yours. You broke the kiss to gasp and pulled slightly on the hair under your fingers. Dean huffed and closed his eyes, letting his head roll back under your touch, hand tightening briefly on your ribs. Your lips brushed his as you pulled him back to you, when your phone starting ringing on the nightstand.

_“Very superstitious, writings on the wall,_

_Very superstitious, ladders bout' to fall,_

_Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass,_

_Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past.”_

You sighed in disappointment. Dean gave the phone a murderous look, growled, and then tucked his face into your neck, lips lightly brushing the sensitive skin below your ear. You reached and disconnected the phone from its charger with one hand and brought it to your face. You knew who that ringtone was for and you really didn’t want to answer it. _It’ll be worse if you don’t_ , Sensible (Your name) gloated. You unlocked it and brought it to your ear, the one not currently being nosed by Dean.

“Hey Ms. Sarah,” you said, trying to steady your fast heartbeat and hide your breathlessness with the sounds of sleep.

_“(Your full name).”_ You winced.

“Yes ma’am?”

_“Are you still in bed?”_

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed, guiltily.

_“Why?”_

“Forgot to set an alarm.”

_“Mhmm sure you did. That Dean boy next to you?”_ Dean picked his head up and looked at the phone with a shocked look.

“What? No ma’am. Why would he be next to me?”

_“Take a wild guess.”_

“Oh!” you feigned shock, “No ma’am, you know it would take a lot more than a pretty face for that to happen, Ms. Sarah.” Dean gave you a look as if to say _Oh, really?_ You gave him a challenging look back. He grinned, mischievousness blossoming deep in the greens. You were nervous.

_“That better be the case. I called your sister and she didn’t answer.”_ You went pink. You could only guess why she didn’t answer. Seemed the brothers had another thing in common: they liked morning kisses. Speaking of, Dean pulled your hand off of his chest and kissed each of your fingertips and looked up through his lashes at you.

“I’ll let her know you called,” you replied.

_“I expect you at my house at one o’clock on the dot, you hear me? Not a second late.”_

“Yes ma’am.” You hid the hitch in your breath as Dean turned your hand palm up and kissed up your middle finger to your wrist where he nipped the thin skin there.

_“You’re gonna miss Genevieve’s singing again.”_ That distracted you briefly.

“Aw really? I didn’t know she was here!” Dean, wanting your attention back, nipped the inside of your elbow.

_“That’s part of the price you pay when you’re a lazy bum.”_ She scolded.

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed. Dean had kissed his way up your bicep and nipped your bare shoulder. Goosebumps erupted across your chest and he grinned.

_“I’ve got to get to the Sanctuary. Not a minute late, (Your name).”_

“Loud and clear, Ms. Sarah.” Ms. Sarah hung up and you pulled the phone away. You squinted at the screen. Ten-thirty-nine. Dean kissed where your shoulder met your neck and you shivered. You set the phone back on the nightstand and looked at him.

“You’re a jerk,” you grinned.

“Yup,” he smiled, popping the end of the word like a bubble. You laughed and his eyes lit up. He leaned back down to continue where he felt off before the call, but you put a finger on his lips. His gave a very masculine and very adorable whimper.

“Nope,” you said, moving your hand to his shoulder to push him back, “Time to get up!”

“Noooo…..” Dean groaned and rolled over, taking you with him. You squealed and ended up with a knee on either side of the top of his hips and your boobs squished between you. Pink rushed across your cheeks and to your hairline.

“Yeeees…” you replied as your fangirl giggled and agreed with Dean, “Lemme up, dork. I’ve gotta pull your brother off my sister so we can get ready to go get scolded and you and Sam can get skinned.” Dean crinkled his nose.

“How about,” he started adjusting you so that his arms completely encircled you, “we let them sleep a little more and we just lay here and chat?” The look on his face screamed the fact that he knew exactly what he and (Bestie) were doing and that chatting was exactly NOT what he wanted to do. You lightly pecked his lips.

“No such luck, hot stuff,” you grinned and pulled away. His arms tightened and you arched an eyebrow at him. He sighed in mock tragedy and loosened them. You giggled and climbed off of him. You grabbed your glasses and padded your way to the door, Dean heaving himself off the bed and following like a lost puppy.

Your perceptive eyes noted that his sleep pants were still slightly tented. Fangirl smirked and winked at you. You blushed. It had been a very, very long time since you’d been kissed like that and even longer since you’d lost control like you did. You made a mental note to get that back in check. Sometimes choosing to be traditionally-minded was a pain in the neck.

You walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, making sure to let it loudly swing closed. You walked to the fridge and pulled out the Sunny D. You poured some in the glass and offered some to Dean, who was leaned against the counter. He shook his head and you shrugged. You returned the jug and let the fridge slam closed. Dean raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s to let (Bestie) know that I’m coming in there in a few minutes,” you explained, “She knows how long it takes me to drink a glass of juice and knows she’s got exactly how long she has to make herself decent.”

“Gotcha,” Dean chuckled and turned around to make himself busy making coffee. You watched him for a moment, sipping your juice. You eyed the lines of his thick strong shoulders, rippling as he reached for a mug and coffee insert. Down the straightness of his back, imagining running your fingers across it and feeling him shiver against you. Your eyes finally landed on his perfectly round rump. Kindof hidden by the baggy sleep pants, but still distinct. You sillily wondered if you could bounce a quarter off those cheeks.

“Take a picture, (Your last name),” he laughed. You blushed and downed your juice. You set the cup on the counter.

“I’ll be back,” you sighed, “If you hear Sam yell, don’t be alarmed, I’ll just be relieving him of his reproductive parts.” Dean laughed.

“But I want nieces and nephews,” he complained.

“They can adopt,” you replied and walked out of the kitchen. You stomped down the hall, mindful of your healing foot. You reached the door and gave them a few more seconds because you really didn’t feel like getting a glimpse of Sam you really didn’t want to see. Steeling yourself, you slung the door open.

“Good morning star shines! The Earth says hallooo!” you laughed. (Bestie) peaked at you over her comforter while Sam tried his best to look asleep.

“First of all, we’re in trouble. Ms. Sarah called and you didn’t answer,” you grinned. (Bestie) smiled triumphantly but blushed. “Sleeping” Sam hid a smile in the pillow.

“Then she called me,” your turn to blush, (Bestie)’s eyes widened.

“Oh really?” she laughed, giving you a pointed look.

“Yup,” you laughed, “But I answered. We are to report to her house at one on the dot.” (Bestie) grabbed her phone off the nightstand and checked the time. In the process, the comforter shifted and you caught a glimpse of her bare shoulder. No scrap of clothing at all. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay,” she said.

“Secondly,” you laughed, “Sam, you can stop pretending to sleep. The all seeing eye knows you’re awake.” He opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“Be ready in thirty and we’ll grab some of the candy Sarah likes as a peace offering,” you finished and turned to leave. You left the door open and went back to the kitchen. Dean was helping himself to a bowl of cereal. You walked in and grabbed a granola bar out of the cabinet. You sat on the counter and munched happily. He brought his cereal over to you and nudged your knees open. You obliged and he leaned against the counter cradling the bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other. You two didn’t say anything. It was one of those rare comfortable silences as you both munched. He bopped his spoon against your nose and you scrunched it and giggled.

Forty-five minutes later, you all were showered (separately), dressed, and ready to go. Both boys looked happy but a nervous dread settled in both their eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle. You sat in the back of the Impala with (Bestie) and rested your head on Dean’s shoulder, giving him directions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Song = Superstitions by Stevie Wonder
> 
> (little tidbit for good behavior: I'm thinking about introducing a character from the show here pretty soon;) I have several ideas on who, how, and why. Can't wait to reveal!!)
> 
> Until next time, my loves<3


	20. Nothing like a good Sunday Lunch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you four are in trouble... What happens when Ms. Sarah gets the four of you in her house for after Church lunch?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies!  
> I'm going to say a quick apology now:  
> I've been off my game and have been hesitant to write. I hope these next few chapters live up to standard and keep you wanting more<3
> 
> As Always: Let me know what you think in the comments below!  
> XOXO and Much Love,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

At exactly twelve-fifty-eight, the Impala rumbled into the drive way of Joe’s ranch-style house. Sure enough, Joe was pulling the typical old man and was sitting in his rocking chair, polishing his hunting rifle. You stepped out and two Labrador Retrievers, a Bluetick Coonhound, and a red Irish setter came bounding around the side of the house, brays of alarm sounding like tornado sirens.

Dean, who had just closed his door, jumped and tried to hide the noise of surprise. You laughed and quickly stepped in front of him to block the dogs. A Lab and the Setter went immediately to (Bestie), who dropped to her knees and rubbed their faces and ears as the wiggling masses bounced off each other and her. The other Lab made a beeline for Sam. You were surprised to learn the Sam loved dogs. Most people would either back away in surprise or immediately go to pet the dog. Sam bent forward and offered a palm to the dog. He sniffed for a moment and give it a lick with a big doggy grin. Sam beamed and scratched the dog’s chest.

The Bluetick walked calmly up to you and hopped up, placing his paws on each of your shoulders. You giggled and rubbed his shoulders. He woofed and licked your cheek.

“Ack! Bones! Really?” you laughed, pushing him down. He barked and hopped in a circle, tail going a mile a minute. Dean cleared his throat. You turned.

“You’ll be okay, Dean. They’re all bark and no bite unless otherwise commanded,” you soothed. Dean’s eyes tightened and he forced a grin.

“So um, who are these guys?” he asked awkwardly, hesitatingly offering his fingertips to the dog sniffing his boots.

“This is Bones, the pack leader,” you smiled, pointing to the Bluetick now exploring the Impala, “The Irish setter is Red, the yellow Lab is Dandy, she’s Ms. Sarah’s, short for Dandy-lion, and the chocolate over by Sam is Barley. They’re Joe’s hunting dogs. Jewel is, too, but she got knocked up by the German Sheppard down the street and stays inside.” Bones meandered back up to Dean and nosed his hand. Dean snatched his hand up and the awkwardly patted the top of his head.

“Awesome,” he muttered. You sighed and nudged him, taking his other hand, lacing your fingers with his.

“They’ll leave you be I promise. I helped train them myself,” you reassured, “Bones!” The dog stopped and looked up at you, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side, “That’s enough, thank you, now, away!” you commanded. The dog yipped happily and ran off back to the porch. The other dogs, following the lead, raced to follow. (Bestie) and Sam straightened, laughing.

The four of you walked up the walkway, girls hand in hand with their respective guys. You caught a twitch of curtain from kitchen. You stepped up and smiled at Joe. He stood and laid his gun to the side and pulled you into a hug.

“Morning Joe,” you grinned, “Scale of one to ten?”

“Seven,” he laughed and you winced.

“Really? That high?” (Bestie) sighed, pulling away from Sam to get a hug.

“Oh yeah,” he chortled, “I don’t think she’d be quite as mad if she knew you didn’t have the boys with you. You not answering the phone, (Bestie),” he smiled at (Bestie) but pegged Sam with a look, “Earned you yet another hour long lecture in not being idgits.” You sighed good naturedly until you felt Dean visibly stiffen beside you. You glanced at him. His face had tightened and he and Sam shared a look. You wondered what that was about and grasped his hand, pulling him closer. He snapped out of it and looked down at you. He relaxed a little and flicked a glance at Joe, sadness flickering in the deep greens. You glanced between the boys and Joe. _Hmm… odd_.

“You guys better head inside,” Joe was saying, standing to following them in. You guys walked in and Ms. Sarah was standing in the doorway, tapping her foot.

“Hey, Ms. Sarah,” (Bestie) grinned and hugged her tightly through her akimbo arms, “I love you! Mmmmmm, smells delicious in there! Anything I can do to help?” You grinned as you saw the heat leave her eyes and a smile try to break through the older woman’s lips.

“Yes, actually,” she grinned evilly, “There’s sixteen potatoes in there at the table, ready for you to peel.” (Bestie)’s grin faltered. She loved eating mashed potatoes but absolutely loathed peeling them.

“Sure,” (Bestie) replied, over bright, “I’ll get right on those.” She disentangled herself and trudged into the kitchen. Sarah’s gazed landed on you.

“Hey, Ms. Sarah,” you grinned sheepishly, stepping forward.

“Hey, yourself,” she grumbled, shooting a look over your shoulder to the boys, “You two are needed in the back. Follow Joe and I’ll call you in when lunch is ready.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sam and Dean replied. You tried not to laugh at the fear the small woman placed into them as they quickly stumbled after Joe to get out of firing range.

“You,” she said turning to you, “follow me.” You sighed and followed her to the kitchen.

“You will be slicing up toppings for the burgers and then making deviled eggs,” she directed, pointing to where she had set your station up on the opposite side of the kitchen table from (Bestie).

“Yes ma’am,” you sighed. For the next thirty minutes, Ms. Sarah lectured you and (Bestie) about how it was her duty to make sure you girls behaved at your home away from home and how you girls were supposed to conduct yourselves with respect and dignity. This wasn’t the first time you two had heard this so you both ended up accidentally tuning her out and focusing on your tasks. (Bestie) was almost through her potatoes, when you dusted paprika over the tops of your beautiful deviled eggs. You popped one in your mouth and stood.

“All done, Ms. Sarah,” you chimed, clasping your hands behind your back. She wiped her hands on the towel she had tucked into the stove handle and walked over to inspect your work.

“Good, go tell the boys that lunch with be ready in ten,” she said. You skipped out the back door where the boys had vanished. You found them in the barn and you were not proud to say that when you stepped into the shade, you stumbled and your jaw dropped.

Joe was rubbing down one of his work horses in the cross ties, the other standing to the side still in a harness. The boys were busy lifting heavy sacks of feed from the bed of the old Chevy pulled into the barn. What made you stop was the fact that both boys had removed their shirts and neatly folded them to rest on a nearby hay bale to avoid coming in looking completely nasty and gross.

It was like something out of a fanfiction induced wet dream and your inner fangirl fainted. Dean grunted as Sam heaved a fifty pound feed sack onto his shoulders. You watched as he back muscles tightened and then straightened his back. Sweat glistened in the afternoon barn light and collected in the small of his back. He walked to the ladder, adorably cute bow legs seeming to saunter and glide gracefully. He step up onto the bottom rung and climbed, still balancing the sack, up to the top where he disappeared towards the back of the loft where you guessed the pile was directed to be. You looked back at Sam.

You thanked God above for the excellent genes the John and Mary Winchester passed on to their boys. _If (Bestie) was here_ , you mused, _she’d be passed out by now_. Sam was lifting his own sack across his shoulders, flicking hair out of his damp face. You noticed that he had an anti-possession tattoo in the exact same place as his brother. Healthy eating and hitting every gym he could had certainly done the boy nothing but good. His abs were rock solid and rippled as he bounced slightly to center the load. He lugged the sack over to the ladder and put a foot on the rung.

“Hold up, Sammy,” Dean called down, scurrying down the ladder. He dusted his hands off and you locked eyes with your… well, for lack of better terminology, your crush. Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest and you drew in a sharp breath. Dean smirked and gave you a slow up and down look. You blushed deeply and tucked your hands into the back pockets of your shorts so you could look and not be tempted to touch.

“Hey, (Your nickname),” Dean grinned, dragging a hand across his forehead.

“H-hey,” you grinned, eyes tracing down his neck, across his chest and settling on his tanned flat stomach. He wasn’t as defined as Sam, a diet as lacking in “rabbit food” as his did that, he had a layer, albeit thin but still, of softness over his abs. It made you want to run your fingers across them and let your fingers trail down the ‘v’ of his hips. And, the dark symbol inked into his pec was practically screaming to be licked and traced. You shook yourself, “Um, I ah finished inside. (Bestie) is almost done too, so ah, lunch’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

“Awesome. We’ve got about ten more bags of feed to haul up for Mr. Joe and we’ll be done,” he replied and walked back to the truck bed with a wink.

“Hey (Your name)? While you’re down here, could you go ahead and rub Hooch down?” Joe asked, peeking around the horse’s neck, “Turner, here, picked up a rock and I’m having issues prying it out.”

“Sure thing,” you replied, snapping your attention away from the eye candy.

“Be careful,” he warned, “He’s cantankerous as hell today.”

“When is he not?” you laughed. You passed Dean on your way to get the other grooming kit out of the tack room. You stifled a yelp when Dean grabbed your ass. You threw a mock look of annoyance over your shoulder and realized Dean was a lot closer than you expected. He had leaned forward under the weight of the feed on his shoulder putting you almost nose to nose. As if on cue, Joe cleared his throat. You blushed and took a step back. Dean’s cocky grin flashed as he eyed your lips before meeting your eyes.

You wondered again what it was growing more and more prominent in the back of his eyes. Whatever it was, the warmth was overtaking everything, but with it minute drops of other feelings were beginning to join it. You sensed doubt and worry, regret and curiosity. The last was immediately squashed by a sort of resigned sadness. Now you really wondered what was going through the mind of Dean Winchester.

You grabbed the kit and moved change Hooch’s harness bridle for his halter. In no time at all, Hooch was lashed into the cross ties and you began to undo all the straps. You glanced up and noticed all three men staring at you with their hands on their hips. You straightened your spine defiantly and pulled the bulk of the heavy harness off the horse’s back.

“Can I help you, boys?” you called, ducking into the tack room to put of the harness.

“How in the name of hell did you managed to do that?” Joe asked, incredulous.

“Do what?” you replied, coming out and laying a hand on Hooch’s neck.

“Not five minutes ago, that horse was rearing, biting, kicking and just straight up acting like a jack-ass, and here you are with him acting as docile of a bunny,” Joe explained. He reached out to pet the horse’s muzzle and was met by a snapping of teeth. You popped Hooch on the neck and his head bounced back and flicked his ears back to you.

“Cause he knows he can get away with it with you,” you laughed, “A stubborn ass needs a stern hand.” You winked at Dean. He laughed and Sam and Joe just shook their heads, unknowing about yours and Dean’s exchange. Being closest to the barn door, you heard Sarah call you all in. You and Joe put the horses in the pastures as the boys used the hose pipe and a couple of clean rags to freshen up and put their shirts on.

Lunch started out awkward and quiet, but between Ms. Sarah’s loud, curious nature and Dean’s open, relaxed attitude, stories and jokes were soon flowing. You sat next to Dean and you noticed he made an effort to be in constant contact with you. His hand rested on your thigh under the table when he could but if he required both hands to eat or gesture, he would press his knee against yours. You were proud of the fact that he and Sam were charming the pants off Sarah and Joe. Joe, you had noticed, seemed to have somewhat become fond of the boys and laughed and goaded alongside them, even taking up their side when Sarah tried to pick on them.

Several times, you met Dean’s eyes and his green eyes were alight with happiness and relaxation just like they were last night. Sam was relaxed and leaned back in his chair, arm resting across the back of (Bestie)’s seat. He seemed content and at home in this atmosphere. Everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. A few times, someone got you laughing so hard, that you would begin to squeak or, to your humiliation, snort. Every time that happened, (Bestie) would happily punch the air and scream, “Yes! We broke it!” Joe and Sarah would look at you in wonder and in love. It had been too long a time since they last heard you laugh so hard.

Lunch was eaten and Sarah nonchalantly got up. You girls followed suit and began clearing dishes away. Dean stood, too, and began picking things up.

“Oh nonsense, dear, you sit down and keep chit-chatting,” Ms. Sarah assured, reaching to take the bowl that had once contained potatoes out of Dean’s hands.

“Sorry ma’am,” Dean respectfully replied, “But I have to insist on helping. Me and my brother were raised to clean up our messes.” His eyes flashed when he said that and Sam and Joe straightened up a little. Ms. Sarah’s eyes softened even further.

“And what excellent teaching that is, but it’s okay to relax and let others clean-up for you once in a while,” she grinned and took the bowl, “Besides, I wanna see the look on y’all’s faces.” Joe’s face brightened considerable and you chuckled. You girls gathered the rest of the dishes and Dean settled back in his seat. He met your eyes and gave you a curious look. You just winked and walked into the kitchen.

Ms. Sarah was pulling out two big pies out of the oven and (Bestie) was pulling a big container of vanilla ice cream from the deep freezer. You inhaled and you mouth watered at the enticing smell of cherry and apple. You carefully placed your armload into the sink and went to the cabinet to get small plates and forks for everyone. You stepped into the dining room first, followed by (Bestie), with Ms. Sarah behind her.

You laughed as you watched Dean’s face. He cut off mid-sentence and his jaw dropped. You swore that if he could’ve made his legs work, he would have been up and kissing Sarah like crazy.

“Is that- Is that pie?” he managed.

“Yup!” she grinned, “would you like cherry or apple, darlin’?” Dean almost fell out of his chair and Sam’s loud bark of laughter split the room. He ended up getting a slice of both and a scoop of ice cream. You settled for a slice of your favorite and a huge helping of ice cream. Dean moaned contentedly and you chuckled as you looked over at him. His eyes were closed and he was chewing slowly.

“I’m guessing you like it?” Sarah chuckled. Dean’s eyes popped open and he grinned.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” he laughed, “But, Ms. Sarah, I’m gonna have to ask you to marry me!” He winked at you and put a hand on your leg.

“Hey now!” Joe chortled as Ms. Sarah laughed and said, “Now, now, thanks for the offer, stud, but I’m going to have to decline. Don’t worry though, (Your name) knows all my secrets on how to make ‘em.” She winked at you and you blushed. Dean’s face turned to you with a shocked look.

“You can make pie?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, you’re golden now,” Sam laughed, “Any girl that can make pie has a direct line to Dean’s soul.” You rolled your eyes and you felt the deep red blush extend past our hairline and across your ears.

Conversation carried on, but this time, Dean pulled your chair closer to him and put an arm around you. He grinned at you and peeked at you more. You caught Ms. Sarah’s eye and she winked knowingly at you. You sighed and leaned against Dean.


	21. Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so lunch went really well. Dean even got some pie! Now back to business, yeah?
> 
> Wait... Is that...???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi:D
> 
> Umm... *what should I write here???*....*Oh!*  
> *Ahem* I love you.... Yes, you dear Reader... shh psh did I say that?? Nah wasn't me... oops...
> 
> Comment below please!!!  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You and (Bestie) cleared away the dessert dishes, as Ms. Sarah put leftovers into plastic ware to send home with you guys.

“Hey, Ms. Sarah? Do you mind if Dean and I check the back fences? I thought I saw a downed piece of fence back there and thought I’d fix it so Joe doesn’t have to worry about it,” you lied, placing the last of the dishes in the sink, as (Bestie) turned the water on. Ms. Sarah eyed you.

“You and Dean? Alone? In the woods?” she sighed, “Yeah, I don’t think so.” You sighed.

“Me and Sam, then?” you asked, (Bestie) pegged you with an odd look and you gave her a reassuring look. Ms. Sarah thought for a moment and then sighed.

“Fine, but takes the dogs with you and be back in forty-five minutes. If it takes longer than that send Dandy back. I don’t want you out there too long. The horses got spooked back there yesterday,” she warned.

“Yes ma’am,” you replied and went to fetch Sam. As you neared the living room, you stopped when you heard the men talking. Curiousity was always your catch twenty-two.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” Joe was saying, “I tried to call Bobby but none his numbers worked. Guess I know why now. I tried to call Rufus and Ellen, too.”

“Yeah, they ah couldn’t pick up either,” Dean said, quietly. _Bobby? Ellen? Surely not the Bobby and Ellen they told you about the other night, right? And who is Rufus?_ You leaned closer.

“I did manage to get a hold of a hunter who connected me to a fellow named Garth,” Joe chuckled.

“Oh geez,” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to get here this evening and see what he can do,” Joe said, “He’s…ah… well, he’s quite the character isn’t he?” Dean and Sam both chuckled.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “Yeah, he is. Let us know when he gets here and we’ll rendezvous and get a plan together… You planning on joining us or staying retired?” _Wait, what? Does that mean…._

“Nah, someone’s gotta be here to protect Sarah,” he sighed, “Knowing (Your name), I’m guessing she’s already figured you out and wants to come along?”

“Yeah, (Bestie), too,” Sam said, “We were gonna try and slip out before they noticed.” You shot a look in Sam’s general direction and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Bad idea,” Joe chuckled, “They’ll both be on you like hawks within feet of you getting out the door. (Your name) was perceptive way before I met her. Since then, I’ve trained her to control it and use it. You won’t slip anything past her.” You grinned smugly. Dean groaned. You decided to make your presence known. You tip-toed back down the hall and walked back letting your feet hit the floor. You walked into the living room and smiled. All three guys were relaxed in their seats, bottles of beer precariously balanced on knees as if nothing happened.

“Hey, can I borrow Sam and Dean for a moment?” you asked. Dean and Sam stood and followed you to the porch.

“Okay, Sam and I are going to go check for tracks and see what we can see close to Foxglove,” you explained once you were safely on the porch.

“Okay, I’ll come, too,” Dean said, patting himself down for his concealed weapons.

“Sorry, hotshot, Sarah says you’ve got to stay,” you grinned, “Something about you and me being alone in the woods being a bad idea.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Okay, well, be careful, okay?” Dean cautioned, the urge to protect and worry making his emeralds cloud. He pulled you into a tight hug, uncaring what his brother thought. You wrapped your arms around him and giggled.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you pulled back, “I’m taking the dogs with me so you need only be worried if Bones comes back without me.” You stepped away and walked to get your bow that was stashed in the old wooden box that Sarah’s younger grandkids used to climb the tree. You glanced at the brothers and sighed with a smile.

“Don’t let anything happen to her,” you read on Dean’s lips. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dude, chill, I’m not stupid. Just keep an eye on (Bestie) for me alright?”

“Fine.”

Sam walked his way to you and you slung your quiver over your shoulder.

“Ready, Katniss?” Sam teased.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” you laughed. You two started walking to the back and you grabbed a bag of tools out of the shed.

“What are those for?” Sam asked.

“Sarah thinks I’m fixing a fence and she’s watching me leave. If I don’t have to tools with me, she’ll be suspicious,” you explained.

“And what about the bow?” he chuckled.

“I’m a bow hunter,” you shrugged, “I always have some sort of bow with me in the woods.” You whistled loudly and all four dogs came running to you from the barn.

“Nice,” Sam congratulated, reaching down to scratch Barley’s ears.

“Thanks,” you grinned, “Bones, on point.” At your command, Bones trotted out in front of you and put his nose to the ground. Dandy and Barley flanked him and Red fell in step beside you. Sam nodded in appreciation.

After a few minutes of walking, you reached the fence. You stashed to tool bag in a tree hollow. The dogs looked up at you awaiting orders. You gingerly stepped through the barbed wire fence and held it for Sam. The dog’s scrambled under the fence and took up formation. You knew these woods like the back of your hand so you set course for Foxglove.

A few minutes later, Bones growled, hackles raising, and he pointed to a spot on the ground. The other dogs bristled and growled and looked around.

“What is it, Bones?” you asked, kneeling next to him. He wagged his stiff tail and looked at you before returning to the spot and growling again. Sam knelt down on his other side. It was a paw print, but not a paw print that you had ever seen.

“Sam, is that…?” you asked, adrenaline starting to pour into your veins.

“Yeah… Werewolf print,” he replied and looked around. There was another print and three feet away. “It’s big and it’s not first generation. First G’s can only shift with the moon. Others can shift with varying difficulties whenever they want.” He explained. You nodded. You both stood and kept walking. You glanced at your watch. Thirty minutes before you sent Dandy back.

It wasn’t long before Bones alerted to another find. This time it was a pool of blood. Sam sighed and stuck the tip of his pinky in it.

“Cold and congealed,” he said.

“Hmm… That means it’s within the past 24 hours,” you speculated. You reached into a pocket in your quiver and pulled out a small test tube. You directed Sam to wipe his finger off on the lip.

“To test animal versus human DNA,” you explained. You kept walking. You got to a big, old Oak tree and stopped. You glanced at your watch.

“Dandy,” you called. She trotted over happily, “Go on home.” She huffed and took off into the woods in the direction you came in. Sam looked at you funny.

“Sarah said if it took longer than forty-five minutes, to send Dandy back,” you sighed, “Now… how well can you climb?”

“Alright, I guess, why?” Sam asked, eyeing the tree.

“The edge of Foxglove is two minutes from here. If we climb this tree, we’ll be able to see into the yard with binoculars,” you suggested.

“Okay, but we don’t have any-“ Sam started. You patted the bottom of your quiver.

“What don’t you have in there?” Sam laughed. You playfully thought for a moment.

“Condoms,” you said decidedly. Sam laughed and reached for lowest branch. You tucked your bow around you and swung up into the tree. You settled in one of the highest branches with Sam a little bit below you, afraid any higher and the branches would break under his weight. You passed down a set of binoculars.

“Can you see it, Sam?” You called.

“No… wait… Yeah… Wow that’s a really beautiful house in a weird, creepy, abandoned sortof way,” he said. You couldn’t help but agree. It was a big, old, plantation house. Thick columns on the wrap-around porch, three stories, each with its own balconies, vaulted roof with a widow’s walk. Ivy and mosses and other vines covered eighty-five percent of the exterior and a tree was growing out of three of the back windows. The longer you looked, the more you saw signs of habitation.

“Hey Sam. That look like a tromped on path to you, over on the left?” you asked.

“Yup. And look over by the front door,” he directed. You focused in. The front door was wide open alongside the windows. _Like someone wanted to air the place out,_ you thought. A light flickered on, on the second floor and you gasped.

“What?” Sam asked immediately.

“Second floor. Second window from the right,” you said quietly.

“Great…. Now we just need to decide if these are werewolves or just squatters,” he sighed. As if on cue, a man strode out of the house, immediately followed by another man. The seemed to be arguing but you were too far away to read their lips.

"Wait a minute,” Sam mumbled.

“What is it, Sam?” you asked, focusing on the more belligerent man.

“I think Dean and I might know the smaller one,” he sighed. You looked closer. The smaller man was the less belligerent one and seemed to be trying to convince the other one to no avail. He was wearing jeans and a thick, green canvas jacket. A green and white, dirty trucker cap topped off his gaunt face and big eyes.

“Is that Garth? Your friend?” you asked, switching back to the bigger threat. You felt Sam look up at you. You looked down at him and shrugged, “What? You guys talk loud and curiosity is my Achilles heel.”

Sam chuckled and rolled his eyes, turning the binoculars back to the men in the overgrown yard, “Yes, that is most likely Garth.”

“Why is he alone and why is he attempting to talk to them?” you asked.

“Well… you see… Garth used to be a hunter. I guess he still is sometimes, but a few years ago, he got bit by a werewolf and got infected,” you looked back down at Sam, “He met a lady werewolf and she introduced him to a pack of werewolves who were pretty much the werewolf equivalency of vegetarians. Since then, and before you ask, yes, we checked them out and cleansed them of their bag eggs, they’ve been living peacefully. My guess is that Garth is trying to persuade this pack to join them,” he concluded.

“Hmm…” You answered. You turned back in time to catch the larger male whip around and shove possibly-Garth. He flew back and landed on his back a few feet away. He stood and attempted to say something else, but the other man was done. He crouched low, back beginning to heave, and said what you guessed was one last warning. Possibly-Garth put his hands up and backed away. He turned to leave and Belligerent-Guy calmed down and stalked into the house and slammed the door. Possibly-Garth dropped his hands and his shoulders drooped and he began to make his way down the remnants of the old driveway.

“Well… I’d take that as werewolf confirmation,” you said, tucking your binoculars into the bottom of your quiver. Sam reached up and gave you his.

“Yeah…” he sighed, “Dean is gonna be pissed when we tell him Garth was already here.”

“I’m guessing Dean doesn’t like Garth?” you inquired.

“It’s not the Dean doesn’t like him, it’s more like Dean’s a big tough German Sheppard and Garth is the little obnoxious Chihuahua,” Sam laughed. You grinned at the comparison. You both hit the ground and the dogs jumped up, ready to go.

“So how do you know Joe?” You asked, settling the pace to get back to Joe’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I'd add someone in;)
> 
> But what was that exchange all about?
> 
> Oh look! *Le Wild Comments Section Appears*


	22. Garth & His terrible, horrible, no good, very...Brilliant idea...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf hideout? check
> 
> Werewolf expert? check
> 
> Plan? wait, wait, wait...You wanna do what now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again Readers, young and old, vets and rooks,
> 
> Last one for now;)
> 
> Comment below and let me know what you thought of the past couple ones:D  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

Turns out, Joe was a retired hunter that used to work on and off again with John, Bobby, Ellen’s husband, Ellen, herself, Rufus (Bobby’s best friend) and, in the first days of living in the life, Mary and her family. He had joined up upon getting out of the military and retired when he met his first wife on a case. After they divorced, he got back in for a year before he met Sarah. He hadn’t known about his old partners and was sad to learn their fates. He had first suspected werewolves when he thought he spotted one behind his property. He tried to get in contact with someone to take of it for him, but lucky for him, two hunters had already blown into town.

You stepped through the fence and headed up to the yard. Upon seeing home, the dogs looked at you and whined. You laughed and gave them the command to go. They took off with happy barks. Sam went to the porch as you stowed the tool bag and the bow and when you turned around, Dean was waiting in the evening light on the porch.

“Honey, I’m home!” you chuckled, as you walked up.

“Good,” Dean replied, glancing over his shoulder before pulling you too him and placing a kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back. Someone cleared their throat. You jumped away and felt your face go pink. It was Joe. Dean took a respectful step back and examined at his boots. Joe chuckled.

“I would give you a death threat, but I’m sure you know by now she more dangerous to cross than I am,” he chuckled, “But just to be on the safe side, I’ll tell Sarah that both of you boys came to me for permission before even thinking about it.” You both blushed and Sam and (Bestie) joined you on the porch.

“So what did you guys find,” (Bestie) asked, settling on the two-person swing. Sam joined her. You took a seat on the floor leaning against one of the support pillars next to the stairs. Dean leaned against the railing next to you.

“Well, we saw your buddy Garth,” you said, looking up at Dean, who looked at Sam. Sam sighed. _He does that a lot_ , you noticed.

“Yeah we got there just as the alpha was kicking him out. My guess is that before coming and talking to us or Joe, he tried to convince them to join his pack. That obviously failed and now I fear that this pack might think we’re here and after them,” Sam explained. (Bestie) looked confused.

“Joe used to be a Hunter,” you said to her and Joe gave you a shocked look and then pegged a look at Sam, who threw his hands up in surrender.

“You talk loud, Joe, and you know I get curious,” you rolled your eyes. He rolled his eyes.

“A story for another time, girls, for now, we have bigger fish to fry,” he said pulling out his phone, “Let me call this little idgit and get him over here before he does something even more stupid.” He stepped into the yard.

“Was it really him?” Dean asked Sam.

“It looked like him. Same tall, gaunt, lanky body with an oversized green, canvas jacket and one of Bobby’s old trucker hats,” Sam shrugged. Dean scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Damn it…” he groaned. You bumped his leg with your shoulder and he looked down at you.

“It’ll be alright,” you grinned, “Between the four of us we should be able to keep the Chihuahua under control.” Dean chuckled.

An hour later, and ’78 Ford Ranchero Squire pulled into the driveway blaring “Baby Got Back” by Sir Mix-a-lot. You busted out laughing and sang along, while Dean groaned and scrubbed his face again.

“Hola mi cha-choes!” Garth exclaimed stepping up the steps and pulling Sam into a big hug, which Sam tentatively returned, “and hola to you, too, mi cha-chas.” He winked and moved to give Dean a hug. You expected him to refuse but, instead, he rolled his eyes and awkwardly patted him once on the back.

“Hey Garth,” Sam grinned, sitting back down with (Bestie), “How’ve you been since our… ah last little visit?”

“Everything’s been hunky-dory, man,” Garth said, “Once you guys took out the old lady, the pack was in a bit of an uproar and tried to usurp the alpha but he stuck out and got everything quieted down again. He gets more challenges now but he’s still strong and maintains order.”

“And your little visit with our friendly neighborhood pack?” Dean asked pointedly, crossing his arms. You nudged his leg and gave him a look that screamed _be nice_.

“How did you guys know about that?” he asked, eyebrows scrunching like a confused puppy.

“Don’t worry about tha-“ Dean said and you punched his foot.

“We were doing recon in the words and caught the tail end of your little conversation. Mind filling us in?” you said, standing so you command his attention. You only half listened as you analyzed him.

Eclectic music taste meant he had attention problems. He was clumsy and had nicks all over his hands from bad punches, dropped glass, and botched rituals. He had large expressive eyes that left nothing hidden to someone like you. He felt everything deeply and purely. If he was angry, he was angry. If he was sad, he was sad. There were no mixed feelings or complicated feelings. He adored the boys and would do nearly everything they asked. He had loyalty, though. You saw that in the way he talked about his pack and werewolves in general. He was chock full of so much energy that it almost made you tired just standing here next to him. And that was saying something considering how when you concentrated on something you could talk at several hundred words a minute.

“So in other words, you went to an unknown wolf’s den, told him his thinking was wrong and his was leading his family to ruin, challenged him accidentally, backed out of the challenge, and then warned him that bad things were going to happen to him because he refused to join you?” Dean summed up, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, when you put it that way…” he whimpered.

“Garth, how are you still alive?” Sam sighed.

“But now that I’ve been to see him, I know he can’t be reasoned with and how to get to him,” Garth said, proudly puffing he chest forward as if it made everything better.

“Oh yeah? And how do we do that?” Dean asked. Just then Ms. Sarah came onto the porch.

“Joe, darling, the dishes are cleaned and there’s leftover for you to warm up when you get hungry,” she said, moving to sit on his lap, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve gotta get going. Janet wants me to help get things set up for the Crandall’s baby shower tomorrow.”

“Okay, my love. I’ll be over tomorrow afternoon to fix the ceiling fan for you,” he promised, giving her quick kiss. You heart glowed and couldn’t help glancing at Dean, who had a small grin on his face.

“Thank you,” she said and slid off, “Good night, girls! Good luck on your finals tomorrow.” She gave each of you a hug and headed to her car. Joe watched her leave and smiled as she honked the horn when her tires hit pavement. Then it dawned on you.

“Aw crap!” you moaned, slapping your palm to your forehead.

“What?” Dean asked, shoulders tightening.

“I totally forgot that I have a final at nine in the morning,” you groaned.

“Do I need to take you home?” Dean offered, reaching for his keys.

“Nah, I’m good, you’ll just have to put up with my obnoxious study habits when we get back,” you said, sitting back down and leaning your back against his legs. He sighed and focused back on Garth.

“Okay so what’s this plan you’ve got?”

“Well,” Garth started, “The alpha’s name is Henry and he’s mostly trying to create a harem.” You rolled your eyes. _Of course a big powerful creature would want a harem. What is it with males and their harems?_

“He’s one of those that believes the werewolves are a sort of super species that should be the dominant race, so he finds a girl that he likes, seduces her, bites her, and brings her to his harem to help him create to ultimate were-race,” he finishes,” AND he has a type.” He looked at you.

“Me?” you asked, “I’m his type?” Garth nodded.

“No,” Dean said plainly, “We’re not using her as bait. Garth, she just found out about Hunters like forty-eight hours ago. She’s not going to be bait.” You let him rant a bit.

“Really?” Garth glanced back down at you, “Huh… I’m really good at reading people and I could have sworn you were a Hunter by the way you carry yourself.”

“I’ve seen my fair share of fights and such,” you said, “My battles have always be that of the human realm. But…” You stood up and spread your feet and crosses your arms, “I’m tough and I already decided to be a part of this hunt AND I, too, am very good at reading people and situations. I’ll play bait.” Joe sighed and Dean straightened.

“No, (Your name). You’re not gonna be bait because we’ll come up with a better plan,” Dean said, moving to cross his arms and stand in front of you.

“No, Dean,” you grinned, “We don’t have a better plan, we don’t have much time, AND I can do it.” You shrugged, “I’ll be fine, Dean, I promise. If it goes south, everyone will be right there to help me kick ass and take names.”

“What happens when one unmovable force meets another unmovable force?” (Bestie) play whispered to Sam, Garth, and Joe. You locked eyes with Dean. You let power and confidence seep into your eyes. Dean met your eyes with supreme stubbornness, concern, and… that other thing…. But mostly concern. You could see that battle waging within him. He knew you could most likely handle your own and that this was the best plan, but he couldn’t bring himself to be okay with letting you seduce an alpha werewolf to gain access to his werewolf harem, just so you could create a distraction to catch them off guard. You put your arms down and stepped closer to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Ah oh,” you heard (Bestie) whisper, “She pulling out the big guns.” Joe snorted quietly. You made your eyes big and let comfort and reassurance light them up.

“It’ll be okay, Dean,” you said, softly, “If I can keep, Moose, over there pinned, I can handle an impulsive guy and subdue and or kill him so you guys can get in. I’m strong and Joe trained me up good. I’ll come out right as rain, I promise.” You looked up through your lashes. Dean thought for a moment and you could see his resolve break down. You smiled. Dean heaved a deep sigh and let his arms down only to point a finger at you.

“You better not get a single hair on your head hurt or I will not forgive myself, understand?” he said. You threw your arms around him.

“I won’t, everyone will be right there and I’ll be fine,” you reassured and you felt his arms wrap around your waist and pull you tight, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. Joe and (Bestie) started laughing and Sam just shook his head.

“What?” Dean growled, pulling away and shooting Sam a look.

“Son, you lasted longer than I thought you would,” Joe chortled.

“Even then, she accomplished in a few seconds what would take me a week of nagging to do,” Sam complained, “And even then, it only works about half the time!” Dean rolled his eyes.

“So where is Henry the Creeper’s hunting grounds?” Dean asked, returning the attention to Garth.

“He said he mostly goes to Club H2O,” Garth shrugged and you winced. Club H2O was a high end club in town, notorious for underage drinking and recreational drug use. Loud music and lots of people, the exact opposite of what used to be your simple sweatpants-wearing-Netflix-bingeing-rum’n’coke-drinking life.

“Fine,” you sighed, “We’ll go tomorrow night. It’ll be the night before the full moon and I’m sure he’ll be itching for a little action and I’ll be able to get some sleep tonight before my exam tomorrow.”

“Speaking of which,” Dean said, wrapping his arm back around your waist, “We should probably get you home so you can study.”

“Hey Garth,” Joe said standing, “You’re welcome to stay here so your close to the action tomorrow, if you want.”

“Aw thanks Joe! Say, you got any beer?” Garth said, grinning ear to big ear.

“No!” Sam and Dean both exclaimed.


	23. Awkward Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a college kid. You learn weird things to help you learn.
> 
> Dean thinks they're cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!  
> I finally hit a writing spree and I'm putting the finishing up the last chapter. Over the next few days, this story will be ending!!  
> Anyways<3  
> As always, comment below and let me know how I'm doing!!!  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

After talking a little longer and getting a loose plan down, you all said goodnight to Joe and Garth and piled into the Impala. You called shot gun so you put your back to the door and put your feet in Dean’s lap as he drove.

“What exam do you have tomorrow, (Your name)?” Sam asked.

“It’s an Advanced Forensic Anthropology final,” you replied.

“Forensic Anthropology?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s a class basically teaching me how scientists can use human remains and determine cause of death and all that jazz, even when the corpse is nothing but bones… Think Temperance from the show Bones.”

“What made you get into that?” Sam asked curiously. You figured the whole criminal-justice career he had temporarily still got him curious.

“Well, I took an Intro. my sophomore year and just became really interested in it. Then my knowledge on the matter became of use when I was trying to find out what happened to one of my old professors, who vanished,” you explained, “After that, I figured it was worth knowing so it actually became my minor.”

“So… You’re a (Your Major) major who can look at bones and say how a person died?” Dean asked, glancing from the road to give you an impressed look, “You don’t see those every day.”

When you got home, everyone went to the kitchen to cook dinner except you. You went to your room and plugged your phone to the docking station and put on your study playlist. Hazo’s “Sevens” began to gently and dignifiedly come from the speakers. You went to your desk and pulled out your binder containing your notes. You sighed and opened up to the correct chapter.

You let the music take you and you began to step to the music, only vaguely conscious of doing so. You wandered around your room as you skimmed and refreshed facts, diagrams, and side notes. Your feet followed the music, slowing, quickening, and twirling you in time to the crescendos and decrescendos. The song ended and, unconsciously, you paused for the next song. Robert W. Smith’s “Into the Storm” picked up and your feet began again and your lips mumbled to themselves about the decomposition times of hyoid cartilage. A deep chuckle startled you out of your trance.

Dean was leaning against your door frame, arms crossed and a gentle grin settled on his slightly stubbled cheeks. You blushed.

“Can I help you?” you asked, putting your thumb in the spine to hold your place.

“I thought you said that you can’t dance,” he smiled.

“I can’t,” you replied, “I just move. It helps me think better. My feet do their own thing.”

“Well then you’re very good at moving,” he laughed and pushed off the doorframe, “(Bestie) is making spaghetti and meatballs. She said to tell you that it’ll be about ten minutes.”

“Okay, cool,” you replied, flipping through the pages, “That’ll get me through this chapter and the next.” Dean flopped down on the bed. You looked up at him, back to your music, and back to him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, pink heating your cheeks up again.

“Mind if I lay here and listen?” he asked with knowing grin.

“To my concert music? Yeah, I doubt you’ll like it,” you snorted, “It doesn’t usually have any electric guitars.”

“Sam likes to listen to the classical stuff,” Dean shrugged, “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“But why would you want to sit here and be bored?” you rejoined, pegging him under a sharp look. He simply shrugged and leaned back. You rolled your eyes. “Fine, whatever, but no interruptions.”

You went to your playlist and chose something with a little action that you thought Dean would like. The music began and you made yourself take steady, measured paces. You felt Dean’s eyes on you. It was very distracting. Soon, however, you reached a place in your notes where you must have been bored and didn’t take as many notes. This made you have to actually read the text and you were back to letting your feet do what they wanted.

You reached the end of the chapter and was aware of Dean’s eyes on you again. You peeked at him briefly and found him watching you. A smile on his soft lips and… that emotion you had yet to give a name too, shining brightly from his candy apple greens.

“Winchester,” you scolded, “If you don’t stop staring at me. I’m going to kick you out.” He chuckled and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. About a minute later, you felt a prickling on your butt. You turned around and put a hand on your hip, just catching Dean grinning and snapping his eyes back shut.

“Don’t make me come over there,” you warned without thinking. Inwardly, you sighed at yourself and made peace with the fact that you were done studying. Dean opened his eyes and grinned mischievously.

“Oh, but what if I want you to?” he challenged, eyes darkening. You let a playful light color your eyes as you set your notes down.

“Well, then I guess I’ll ju-“

“Dinner’s ready!” (Bestie) called from the kitchen. You laughed and Dean groaned and flopped back on the bed. You walked over to your phone and paused it. Dean followed you out to the kitchen.

Dinner was a quiet affair, well, quiet in reference to the boys, meaning only minor joking and a couple more protests from Dean about your roll in the plan tomorrow evening. Afterwards, (Bestie) wandered off to her room, Sam close behind, saying that she needed to study for her morning exam. You hoped she would actually study, she was almost as smart as you but the class the exam was in had been giving her a bit of trouble here towards the end. Dean followed behind you as you made your way back to your room, trying to remember just exactly where you had placed your notes from the review.

Dean crawled onto what was steadily become his spot on the bed and propped up on an elbow to look at you. You smirked and grabbed a highlighter and your notebook and walked over to him.

“What no music this time?” he chuckled.

“It causes too much of a distraction with you around,” you grinned and nudged him so that you could sit up against the headboard.

“For you or for me?” he laughed.

“Yes,” you giggled. You crossed your legs Indian-style and opened your notebook, “Now hush. I’ve just gotta get through this review section and then we can go to bed… That is, if you plan on staying in here again tonight.” You tried to keep the hopeful sound out of your carefully neutral voice and failed. He chuckled.

“If you don’t mind me being a cover hog and incessant grabber,” he winked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, you apparently deal with my sleep talking and rolling around so, we’re even,” you rejoined, highlighting a line in your notes. Dean sat up and repositioned himself so that he leaned against the wall.

“You sleep talk?” he asked, his head tilted slightly to the side in curiosity.

“Yeah?” you looked up, “Every person I’ve ever roomed with says it’s pretty bad. It a terrible and embarrassing habit that I can’t break no matter how hard I try… You mean you didn’t hear me last night?” He chuckled.

“I must been sleeping better than I thought,” he said, “Now I’ll just have to stay up and listen.” You went pink.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you laughed awkwardly.

“And why is that?” he grinned evilly and poked you in the side. You laughed and batted his hand away and then went a darker shade of pink.

“I’ve been known to say umm… things and ahh… make noises….to certain dreams that I have absolutely no recollection of…” you looked back down at your notes and busied yourself with highlighting another line. Dean busted out in a loud, deep laugh and you couldn’t help peek up at him. You were beginning to serious lo- _like, like is the word you’re looking for,_ seeing him in full laugh. His eyes crinkled shut and his jaw dropped in a wide grin that flashed his pearly whites and showed off his laugh lines he was way too young to have. It made him look years younger, somehow, and the laugh itself was contagious. You giggled.

“Miss (Your full name), do you have promiscuous dreams?” he chuckled and poked your ribs again.

“I don’t know!” you replied, batting his hand away and hiding your face in your hands, abandoning your highlighter for the moment, “Like I said, I don’t remember most of my dreams and nobody remembers exactly what I say or they just refuse to tell me.” You felt hands wrap around your shoulders and pull you against his shoulder.

“Ah no worries, (Your Nickname), I promise I won’t tell the others that you moan out my name in your sleep,” he laughed and you rolled your eyes and pushed him sideways.

“Your name? Huh! It would more likely be Benedict or Jared or Jensen,” you laughed.

“That many guys crawling into your bed, huh?” he sat back up, a hint of jealousy glinted in the deep backs of his eyes.

“I wish!” you joked, “They’re all hotshot actors, dork.”

“I knew that,” he grinned, green little monkey retreating back to its cage.

“Ah-huh, sure you did,” you grinned, returning to your review. After a few minutes of watching you, Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna go grab a shower,” he decided, pulling himself to the edge of the bed.

“Mkay, need help?” you looked up grinning.

“Sure,” he answered with a cocky grin and a roving look from your toes to your face.

“I’ll get Sam right on that,” you laughed. He rolled his eyes.

“On second thought, I’ll manage,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair and walked out of the room. You tried to focus on your review but the fangirl inside insisted on coming up with a fanfiction-y plotline about what would happen if you had offered to help him instead of offering Sam up. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before you gave up and put your notes up. You knew the material anyways and if you forgot anything off the top of your head, you could always pull that trick where you went into your Sherlockian mind palace and scrounged up the missing material.

Dean came out of the bathroom just as you were leaving your room to grab clean pj’s from the laundry. Steam billowed out around him and his hair stuck up at odd angles as he scrubbed a towel over his head. You throat constricted and you swallowed awkwardly. His shirt clung to his still damp abs and his sleep pants were slung low on his hips. Your mouth was _not_ watering. _People don’t actually do that. Good Lord_ , you inwardly groaned, _this is sooo not fair to little ol’ traditional_ _me_. You cleared the blockage in your throat.

“Geez, woman, you leave any hot water for me?” you scoffed in order to cover your blatant… umm… excitement. Dean jumped slightly and chuckled, pulling his head out of the towel. The green of his eyes shone brighter than you’d seen yet and his water darkened hair made his freckles stand out over his nose.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a woman,” he winked, “And yes, I left you hot water.”

“Oh I noticed all right,” you winked back and walked down the hall. You felt Dean’s gaze caress your back down to your butt. You put a little more twitch into your hips to let him know that you knew that he was watching. You heard a chuckle and smiled. You reached the laundry and thought for a moment. _Well, two can play in a game of teasing, right?_ you justified, pulling a pair of short shorts and another sleep cami out of the clean basket. You piled your hair into a messy bun and showered quick and efficiently, not giving your mind time to wander.

You walked back into your room and tossed your dirty clothes into the hamper. You glanced at Dean and he appeared half asleep already. You chuckled and when to go check the window. When you turned back around, Dean was propped up on an elbow again, looking at you with a look that screamed hunger. His eyes were slightly dilated and he nibbled at his bottom lip, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. You fought the urge to tackle him and nibble his lip yourself.

Instead, you popped your hands on your hips and asked, “What are you staring at?”

“A super friggin’ beautiful woman,” Dean replied, eyes dancing.

You blushed and made a show of looking behind you, “Where? I don’t see one.” Dean hopped off the bed and was in front of you a just a few long strides. His arms threaded around you, pulling you closer.

“Right…,” he rumbled. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your fingertips tangle in the hair on his neck and head. You looked up through your lashes and grinned challengingly.

“Here,” he grinned and slammed his lips into yours. The two of you played and you chuckled. His hands rubbed at your sides, one eventually worked up your cami enough that his rough thumb brushed the hyper-sensitive skin on your hips. You gasped and shivered, feeling a tingling in your breast and he groaned and pulled you closer, deeping the kiss by brushing his tongue over the roof of your mouth. Your arms tightened and you went to your tiptoes. Your hands tightened in his hair and he groaned again. It rocketed from your mouth to your heart and then to your boobs and settled low in your stomach.

He pulled away and you couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper that left your lips. The whimper turned into a squeal when he leaned down and picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You giggled and he grinned as he reclaimed your lips. You felt him spin you around in a circle and then felt him lean down, not breaking the kiss, and set you far back of the bed. He followed and hovered over you. He broke away and looked at you.

In the lamplight, he looked even sexier. You grinned up at him a brushed a hand over his cheek and into the longer hair on top of his head. His eyes fluttered and he leaned into your touch. With a growl, he pulled away and placed a nipping kiss to the soft place just behind and below your ear. You shivered again and giggled. He seemed to love that reaction and did it again. This time his hands scrubbed at your ribs just below your breasts and rocked his hips slightly. You moaned at the feeling of a hard bulge brushing your core. In return, Dean growled brushed his thumbs across the sides of your boobs. Your eyes popped open.

“Dean,” you sighed.

“(Your name),” Dean breathed. It sounded almost like a prayer and it damn near broke you heart because of what you were about to do.

“Dean,” you said, more solidly. He looked up at you change of tone, eyes already half-way blown.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” you sighed wretchedly, “We can’t. I can’t. I’m mean I want to, don’t get me wrong, I really, _really_ want to, but I can’t.” Your babbling made you turn a deep dark red and you refused to look him in the eye. Afraid of what you might see. After a moment, Dean chuckled. Surprised, you looked up at him. He was smiling. His eyes had calmed down a bit and you could see embarrassment and a slight disappointment.

“It’s okay,” Dean said lowly, “I should’ve had more control.” He pulled back and shifted to the side. You rolled to face him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, “I just… I dunno I’m weird. I really want to wait.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckled, “I understand. And being honest, (Bestie) warned me. I just ah…. Um… couldn’t help myself.” You chuckled.

“You almost won,” you smiled. He laughed and pulled you to his chest. He reached over and turned out the lamp. You slipped your glasses off and laid them on the nightstand. You curled in close to Dean. You couldn’t help drinking in the warmth from him. You sighed contentedly and snuggled closer. Dean’s grip around you tightened and he sighed, too.

“Sorry for getting you all worked up for nothing,” you mumbled against him. He chuckled.

“’S not the first time it’s happened,” he said. You giggled.

“Good night, Dean,” you sighed.

“Good night, (Your name),” he said quietly.

 

_I love you, Dean,_ you thought. You opened your eyes and your heart began to pound. _Wait, what? Did I…? Did I just…? Well, hell I’m screwed now_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song works: (not mine)  
> -Hazo's "Sevens"  
> -Robert W. Smith's "Into the Storm"  
> If you're into classical/concert pieces, these are my favorite. Highly suggest checking them out.


	24. The Morning of the Grand Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you talked.... but what did you say?
> 
> AND you've got your final today....
> 
> And you've got to take out a werewolf...
> 
> Busy busy busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi loves<3
> 
> Enjoying it?  
> Let me know in the Comments!
> 
> XOXO,  
> Crowley'sOwnTemptress

You groaned into your pillow and patted a hand around your nightstand for your phone.

_I had a dream so big and loud_

_I jumped so high I touched the clouds_

_Wo-o-o-o-o-oh_

_Wo-o-o-o-o-oh_

_I stretched my hands out to the sky_

_We danced with monsters through the night_

_Wo-o-o-o-o-oh_

_Wo-o-o-o-o-oh_

You sighed when you realized you had left your phone in the docking station….on the other side of the room. A deep, discontented growl emanated from the lump of blanket pressed into your side. You disentangled yourself and trudged over to the phone. You grouchily unlocked it and turned the alarm off and padded back to the bed. You climbed back in and an arm lifted, inviting you back under the covers. You yawned, grinned and cuddled close, clutching your phone to your chest. Once under the blanket, the strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you in close.

“’Mor’ing…” Dean mumbled. It sounded like gravel was caught in his throat but not in the painful way. More like if Bruce Wayne and Bane had a love child and then when through really good puberty… You chuckled at your own analogy.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“What are you laughing at?” he grinned and proceeded to tickle you. You squealed and arched away, trying to grab his wrist to stop his attack. He chuckled deeply and pulled you close with a kiss to your neck.

“Honestly? I was comparing your voice to that of Batman and Bane’s love child,” you grinned, laughing. He looked at you and in the dim light of the room, you watch his deep, sleepy confusion try to work it out. Finally it clicked and he chuckled.

“You’re weird, you know that?” he teased, brushing his long nose against yours.

“You enjoy it,” you laughed and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Mmmm, that I do,” he growled and lightly pecked your lips. You sighed and studied him. His eyes seemed to glow. They were sleepy but you have never seen them so unguarded, so content. You’d bet big money that it wasn’t often that the big, bad, Dean Winchester, Demon-Hunter Extraordinaire, let even his deepest walls down and just allowed himself to feel. You wondered what he was actually thinking. Your heart lurched. You could name why now, even if you couldn’t form the words in your head again.

The opening notes to Lindsey Stirling’s “Roundtable Rival” blared from your chest. Dean chuckled and you groaned. You turned it off and gave Dean your best puppy-eyes.

“Oh no, Miss Nighttime-Chitter-Chatter,” he laughed at your blush, “You’ve got a test to take.” He grabbed your ribs and began tickling you again. You laughed and rolled away from him. You stood and walked to your closet and dug out some clothes.

“So I take it you heard me last night,” you chuckled, pulling a clean bra out of a drawer. Dean laughed.

“You bet I did,” he chortled. You blushed and started to change, employing your no-flash technique.

“Oh geez, what did you hear?” you winced. He chuckled deeply.

“Now why would I tell you that?” he said. You rolled your eyes and turned to face him in shorts and a bra. You felt your cheeks and chest warm as he raked you with an appreciative look.

“Because I’m awesome and I’m battling a werewolf tonight and deserve to at least know what I say in my sleep,” you argued, searching for one of your fandom shirts in your clean clothes basket. Dean groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled. You ‘aha!’’ed and pulled out your ‘Sher-locked’ shirt. You threw it on and climbed onto the bed next to Dean. He grabbed you and pulled you onto his chest. He studied your face and you smiled.

“What?” you grinned.

“Nothin’,” he sighed. He gave you a half-grin but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Your grin fell a little.

“Can’t lie to me,” you reminded and pecked his nose, “What’s up?” Dean looked at you for a few seconds before answering.

“Just worried, I guess,” he said at last. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ll be fine, I promise. We’ve dealt with beast-ish baddies before. I may be short but I can kick ass, I swear,” you reassured, “Better yet, while I’m taking my exam, you should as Garth if silver arrows will work.”

“I will,” he promised and reached up to gently kiss your lips. You closed your eyes and sighed as you returned it, leaning down so he didn’t have to stretch.

“(Your name)! Let’s go! I would like some Chik-fil-a _BEFORE_ the line gets long, please!” (Bestie) yelled from the other side of your door. Your eyes popped open and you laughed.

“Really? Every time,” Dean groaned, smile playing at his lips. You got up and grabbed your bag.

~~~~~~~~~~~&~~~~~~~~~~~~

Couple of hours later, you pulled back into Joe’s driveway and pulled your Camaro to a stop next to the Impala. As if on cue, both boys and all the dogs were making their way off the porch to greet you girls. Bones reached you first and you squatted down to rub his ears.

“Hey Bones,” you giggled, “Hey, Hotshot.” That you aimed at Dean who was skirting around the canine fray.

“Hey,” he grinned, “How’d your test go?”

“Excellent,” you beamed.

“Yeah, the freakin’ genius was the only one to score a perfect score,” (Bestie) grumbled.

“Guessin’ yours didn’t go so well, babe?” Sam asked, pulling her up and into a hug grinning ear to ear.

“Ugh. I totally didn’t do good on it….I’m just going to hack the system and change my grade,” she joked. You rolled your eyes.

“She did great, too. To her, a low ‘B’ is failing,” you laughed. Sam and Dean chuckled and you guys made your way inside.

“Hey hey, what’s up lady friends?” Garth boomed the moment you stepped in the door.

“Hey Garth, doin’ just swell, how ‘bout you?” you laughed.

“Can’t complain too much. Ms. Sarah came over earlier and made a big cake and I swear I’ve gained a hundred pounds just looking at it,” he rambled.

“Good,” you said, poking him in the side, “You need to gain a few pounds.”

“Funny. Sarah said the same thing.” You rolled your eyes. You all made your way to the living room and claimed spots on couches or, in your case, the floor in front of Dean’s knees.

“Okay, so how long before we all get our fake party-hardy on?” (Bestie) asked. That seemed to sober everyone up a little.

“Well, let’s go over the plan again, first,” Dean suggested. You bit back a hum of contentment as Dean leaned forward and began rubbing your shoulders. (Bestie) rolled her eyes.

“Is he always this neurotic OCD?” she play-whispered to Sam.

“Not a bit,” Sam play-whispered back. Dean threw a punch into his brother’s arm. Sam laughed and threw one back. Soon, you were getting jostled from between Dean’s knees and your mom-voice came out.

“Boys, boys! Okay, you’re both macho, macho men, we get it. Cut it out!” you giggled. They paused and looked at you.

“Did you really just quote The Village People at us?” Dean laughed.

“Maybe,” you stuck your tongue out at him. He broke off from Sam and reached for you. You jumped up and danced away.

“Oh no, Winchester, don’t even think about it,” you laughed. He chuckled.

“Okay, so, seriously. The plan.” (Bestie) laughed, leaning against Sam.

“The plan is this: I get dolled up, seduce a werewolf, talk him into taking me to his place,” you shimmied your hips and Dean gave you a bitchface worthy of his brother, “you guys fake party-hardy until you see me leave. Y’all bust balls and get here and through the woods before we do. Once in place, I’ll go in, stab Mr. Creeps, sound the alarm, you guys will come in, and we’ll all kick ass, take names and then go for ice cream.” You finished with a plop in front of Dean.

“Ice cream? Really?” Sam chuckled. (Bestie) popped his bicep.

“Ice cream is the perfect victory, celebratory, after-battle snack,” she defended and you laughed.

“Plus, it’s our tradition,” you added. The three Hunters looked between the two of you.

“What?” you asked with a shrug, “I told you this wasn’t our first go at a fight.” Dean shook his head.

“We’ll go to H2O at eight,” Dean decided, “Until then, I want to run some more training scenarios now that we’ve got enough people to thoroughly out number you, plus a real werewolf so you can see how strong they are.”

“Okie dokie,” you grinned, “I promise not to bite if you do, Garth.” You winked at said gangly Hunter. He blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song:  
> American Authors - Best Day Of My Life  
> Lindsey Stirling - Round Table Rival


	25. Shower needed: Pronto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tips on how to seduce a werewolf:  
> -Don't.
> 
> You know the douche-y guys that have like greased up hair and just kinda give you the heebee geebees?   
> Yeah...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader reader!!
> 
> Last one for tonight, but I promise to add more tomorrow! <3
> 
> Serious this time xD  
> Comments welcomed!  
> XOXO,  
> Crowley'sOwnTemptress

You spent the next several hours playing out possibilities that could happen; some with you against four wolves, you against Garth, you and (Bestie) against three wolves.

“Hold up,” you yelled, picking up your phone. Six-forty-five, “I’ve got to go in and get ready.” You grinned and wiped sweat from your brow. Dean reached over and tugged his shirt on over his head. The last few goes against him had be a lot of fun. Your fangirl was preening over the fact that you had pinned the yummy torso underneath you quite a few times.

“It’ll take you an hour to get ready? Seriously?” Dean joked.

“To get ready to seduce a werewolf? Yes,” you laughed. You headed inside and grabbed your bag. After a quick shower to take the workout stench off, you combed through your hair and put gel in it to curl it up. As you started to apply your make-up, your nerves began to settle themselves in. _You’re about to go seduce a werewolf…_ you helpfully reminded yourself. _You have to get him to take you home and then kill him without getting bit and without raising the alarm of his harem. No biggie…_ You gulped and looked at yourself in the mirror.

You were wearing denim shorts that folded up at the cuffs and your nicest Converse low-tops. On top you went deep into your closet and pulled out one of your cosplay corsets. It was Juliet-style, brown and gold piece with brass buckles that fastened over the front. You had worn it for a Steampunk themed wedding and hadn’t had a chance (or really, an excuse) to wear it again, even though you loved it. You slipped some silver daggers into hidden slots, specially sewn in behind some of the boning and put silver jewelry on.

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, taking one last glance at yourself in the mirror. You took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. You were met by a very shocked Dean. His hand was half raised, fully intending on knocking on the door to see if you were ready. He gasped lightly, hand still in the air, as his eyes drank in your appearance. They grew dark and wide the longer he stare and you read desire loud and clear. You blushed crimson and finally found your voice.

“Umm… yeah, all set,” you said, trying to keep the embarrassment and nervousness out of your voice. Dean’s eyes flicked back up to yours.

“What?” he asked. You chuckled and blushed deeper and wrapped your hands across your waist.

“I’m ready, when you are,” you said. This only made you blush impossibly darker when the greens darkened further to a deep emerald. Something clicked behind his eyes and he shook himself, bringing his hand down and stuffing his fists in his pockets. Red crept up his neck and settled on his cheeks and the tops of his ears as he cleared his throat.

“Oh, yeah… um… We were just... ah waiting for you,” he stumbled, making a very strong effort to look only at your face, “Do you… where are…?”

“Oh! My weapons?” you filled in, “Specially designed.” You ran a hand along the bottom edge of the corset and released one of the daggers. Dean coughed in an attempt to stifle a groan and he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. It did your self-confidence wonders to have this kind of effect on someone, even if it was wreaking havoc on your nerves.

“Good,” he grunted, eyes locked on the dagger, “Very… Very good. Let’s go!” He spun and stalked to the living room. You followed and the moment you came around the corner, you noted everyone’s looks. Sam and Garth looked shocked and gave you pleased looks. Sam, respectful and making up for his gawking by pulling (Bestie) to him. Garth’s eyes grew huge and he shot a look over at Dean, who was making himself busy by checking his weapons duffle. (Bestie) laughed and wolf whistled at you.

“Damn, (Your name), it’s been awhile since you’ve pulled those pups out like that,” she grinned, gesturing to your boobs. You rolled your eyes, blush recoloring your cheeks.

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“Hey, uh (Your name)?” Garth piped up. You picked up the nerves making his voice slightly waiver.

“Yeah?” you asked, trying to ease tension by making yourself as relaxed and nonchalant as possible. This was much easier now that Dean was giving you a look that made your insides spin.

“You have weapons, right?” he asked, rubbing his forearms. You laughed.

“Yeah, my top is designed with dagger sheaths hidden in the bones,” you explained, forgoing the display when Dean shot a brief look of protection over you at Garth.

“That’s pretty smart,” Sam agreed.

“Thanks,” you grinned.

“Shall we get going now that our bait looks enticingly edible?” (Bestie) asked, giving you a suggestive wink and darting a look towards Dean. You rolled your eyes.

“Sure,” you said. You all filed out and you locked up Joe’s house behind you. Garth walked to his car and the rest of you walked to the Impala. You moved to sit in the front.

“Sam gets shot gun,” Dean said, glancing at you over the hood. You looked over at Sam, who shrugged.

“Okay,” you said, moving around the car to sit behind him. You settled in and Dean fired her up. When he checked the rearview, his eyes briefly met yours and darted away. _Odd…_ you thought. You spent the ride cracking jokes with (Bestie) and asking Sam questions about werewolf lore and mechanics. You also studied Dean through the mirror. He was tense and seeming to put a lot of effort into keeping his eyes on the road. He would grin and chuckle at you girls’ banter but every time he caught your eye, he quickly looked away again.

You pulled up into the parking lot. For a Tuesday, the place was pretty packed. You stepped out and joined the others.

“Okay, remember, Sam and (Bestie) will go in first, then Garth and I will walk in, just two guys looking to pick up chicks, and then you, (Your name), will wait for my text. When we find him, I’ll let you know and you can come in and zero in on him. Past that, don’t make it too obvious but don’t let his attention wan-,” he explained for the thousandth time.

“Dean, I got it,” you chuckled, “Believe it or not, I can flirt. I learned from the best.” You nudged (Bestie)’s shoulder.

“Easy, grasshoppa,” she laughed.

“Okay, well, just give us the signal if you ever feel uncomfortable. We’ll have eyes on you the entire time, okay?” Dean assured, his hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you but he stopped himself.

“Roger dodger,” you grinned.

“Okay, Sam, (Bestie), you’re up,” he instructed and they headed in, Sam arm wrapped protectively around (Bestie). That’s when your next bout of nervousness kicked in. You have never walked into a fight without your girl by your side. You took a deep breath and fiddled with one of the dagger clasps. A hand smoothed over it and you looked up.

“It’ll be okay,” Dean said, quietly, “You’ll do great.”

“It’s just weird not going in with (Bestie),” you admitted.

“I understand that, Lord knows I get that way every time me and Sam split up,” he chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. He glanced at his watch. His face smoothed and got serious.

“Our turn, darlin’. Remember, I’m just a signal away if you need me,” he reassured and pulled you close, “You look friggin’ amazing, you know that right?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck, behind your ear.

“Thanks,” you whispered, hugging him back. Something tugged at your chest. Something uncomfortable and unwanted. You felt the urged to whisper those three little words to Dean. You stomped it down and chalked it up to nerves. He pulled away and he and Garth walked in. You leaned against the Impala and pulled out your phone to wait for the text. You breathed and went over werewolf facts and fighting tips in your head. Five minutes later, your phone buzzed.

_Dark hair. Black shirt. 4 seats from the left end of the bar. We’re right here_ , Dean sent. You took a deep breath.

_Show time_ , you sent back.

_Oh and don’t get jelly over what you see. Promise its all for show_ , you added. You didn’t know what made you sent that but you did.

_I know ;)_ , Dean replied. You rolled your eyes. You walked in and set your sights. You found him easily and made your way over to the open stool two seats down. You made yourself look bright and happy as you plunked yourself down.

“Hey bartender!” you called sweetly, in the direction of the wolf, “Can I start out with a little Tequila?” The bartender, gave you a look, and grinned as he nodded. The wolf glanced at you and did a double take. You caught his eye and gave him a once over and winked. He glanced back towards the girl in front of him and then back at you, grinning. The bartender stopped in front of you and smiled as he poured your shot and put a wedge of lime on the rim and handed it to you.

“Starting with Tequila, huh?” a voice rumbled in your ear. You forced a grin and looked up. Mr. Werewolf was right next to you, leaning on the bar top and laying on the eye smoldering. You inwardly scoffed, what a douche. You pulled out a flirty grin.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to meet a guy here and I’m a little nervous,” you said.

“Lucky guy,” he grinned, he did a light scan of the crowd, seeing if anyone was heading towards you yet.

“He might be,” you winked and palmed the shot glass. He caught your meaning.

“Does this guy have a name?” he grinned. Was it your subconscious that made him look wolfish or did he actually have canine-esque features?

“That depends, do you?” you flirted. You almost couldn’t keep yourself from gagging at yourself. If (Bestie) could hear you, she’d never let you live it down. Wolfy laughed and inched closer.

“Henry, but you can call me Lucky,” he smiled, eyeing the tightness of your corset and back up into your face.

“That was so lame,” you laughed and flicked your hair over your shoulder, exposing the expanse of your neck and bare shoulder. His eyes darted there and you noted his eyes got darker.

“You laughed though,” he countered and waved at the bartender, “I’ll have what she’s having.” He gestured to your glass.

“Starting with Tequila, huh?” you winked.

“Anything to make a pretty girl less nervous,” he laughed, settling a hand on the back of your chair. You made yourself giggle and blush and then sat up straighter, bringing attention to your breasts. Another shot was poured and set up in front of Henry McWolf.

“Now a test,” he grinned, “Let’s see if the pretty girl can hang with the big dogs.” You inwardly rolled his eyes at the self-pride he had in his eyes over his own joke.

“Child’s play,” you winked. You licked a stripe up the side of your thumb, eyeing him the whole time, and poured salt on it. His eyes followed your every move like a cat watching a mouse. You took the lime wedge in hand and tossed the shot back like a pro. It burned your throat but gave you the last bit of courage you needed to go through with the plan. You licked the salt and popped the lime to your lips. He looked at you impressed. You winked and pulled the lime away.

“Not even a flinch,” he growled, “I like a good, strong woman that can handle her drinks.” _I bet you do._ You winked.

“Your turn,” you said, turning your body to face him head on, “Can you handle a girl like me, I wonder?” He returning look screamed ‘victory’ like he’d already won you. You scoffed. _Yes, little mouse, you’ve caught the cat, no?_

“Do the honors?” he asked, offering his hand. You grinned and held his wrist in your hand. _Oh geez, Dean, I hope you don’t watch this._ You seductively licked a stripe across his wrist. His eyes darkened further and a growl emanated from his throat. You let go and he poured salt on the spot. He downed the shot and luxuriously licked over the salt before taking his lime and biting down on it, clearly thinking he was giving you a show. He kind of reminded you of the creepy boyfriend off of the movie Practical Magic with Sandra Bullock, now that you thought about it. You made your eyes darken and you grinned suggestively.

“Very nice,” you complimented.

“Not as nice as you look tonight,” he laughed. He set his lime down and put his hand on your waist. You looked down and back up. You shifted closer to him while every instinct screamed to run in the other direction. You felt a heat grow on the spot his hand laid and it wasn’t his body heat. You sighed inwardly. Hopefully, that wasn’t Dean getting jealous.

“Again, very lame,” you purred. He laughed and leaned closer to you, lips brushing your ear. You fought the urge to cringe away.

“How ‘bout you and I go claim a spot on the dance floor?” he said, thumb rubbing your side slightly. You giggled.

“What about the guy I was waiting for?” you pouted.

“His loss,” Henry growled. You laughed at slide off the stool, purposely bumping into his hip. He took your hand and led you to the floor.

An hour later, you felt skeezy and in desperate need of a shower. Still you laughed and blushed, adding an “accidental” brush here and the nudge there. You giggled as he led you off the dance floor and leaned in close to your ear again.

“I think we should move this party to somewhere a little more private, don’cha think?” he growled, placing a hand on your far hip and pulling your shoulder into his chest. You couldn’t help your shudder this time, luckily you could play it off as a shiver of excitement.

You looked up at him, making your eyes flash, “I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned wide and led you toward the door and you scanned the crowd. You had done this periodically through the night and always managed to find someone. There, Sam was at the bar getting a drink. You winked at him and tapped your pocket. He nodded and disappeared into the crowd. Once outside, Henry led you to a sleek silver car and opened it for you. You giggled and slid in.

“So where are we going?” you grinned as he settled in and started the car.

“I figured I’d take you back to my place,” he winked, “My sisters don’t mind but I have to warn you, we just inherited the manor and haven’t done a lot of work to it yet.”

“That’s okay, I love old manor houses,” you chuckled, laying a flirty hand on his. He smiled, blissfully unaware that you were toying with one of the daggers in your corset.


	26. Does a Winchester plan ever not go awry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boss Level: Henry the Alpha and Harem
> 
> Are you ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my beloved readers!!  
> Another installment for your loving eyes:3
> 
> As always, Comment below on what you like or don't like!  
> XOXO,  
> Crowley'sOwnTemptress

You pulled up the long drive and feigned an awed gasp.

“This is where you live? It’s beautiful!” you praised, leaning forward, dragging attention to your breasts.

“It’s not much, I’ll admit, but it’ll do for now,” Henry replied coyly. You gave him an excited look that pleased his ego. He pulled up to the front and a light flickered to life on the second floor. You giggled as he grabbed your hand over the consol. The hungry look in his eyes grew as he eyed you toes to top. _Oh crap_ , you knew what was coming next. You fixed your smile and went to your happy place as he leaned in and smashed himself against your lips. You responded like you should, on autopilot, and giggled when enough time had passed.

“Hmm… Can’t wait to get you inside,” he growled and eyed your lips. You shuddered again, not from pleasure. He came around an opened your door and immediately pressed you firmly against the car. You faked a moan and he kissed you hard. You could almost feel Dean’s anger rolling off of him from the direction of Joe’s. Henry trailed kisses from your mouth down your neck. Adrenaline shot white hot through you.

As if on cue, you caught a flash of light in the direction of Joe’s. This flash was quickly followed by two more. _Ah, the cavalry has arrived._ You regained Henry’s attention with a giggle.

“Easy killer, we’re not even inside yet,” you said, gently pushing him off of you. His grin sent chills down your spine.

“You’re right, let’s go meet the family and then scurry off to my room,” he said and curled an arm possessively around you. He led you in and you were immediately greeted by a woman a few years your elder. She welcomed you warmly but stood at a respectful distance and made sure to keep her hands behind her back and her eyes downcast. _Poor thing…_

“We will be up in my room for the rest of the evening,” Henry directed. She nodded in understanding and stepped aside. Henry led you upstairs and you maintained your “excited” giggling while planning how you were going to slip a dagger between his ribs. Upon entering his rather extravagant room, he pushed you against the door and collided his body with yours. His hands grabbed your wrists and pulled them over your head. _Well, crap…_

You forced moans and tried not to gag. His hands steadily moved down your arms, stopping to caress your breast over the corset. Once you were able, you put your hands on the side of his neck. You planned on waiting until you saw and opening and immediately diving in, banking on surprise. Fear set in as you quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen.

His hands moved down your waist and played with the edges of your corset. A clasp popped beneath his lithe fingers and a dagger dropped into his surprised hand. You both stared at the dagger. You met his eye with determination and he, with shock, then confusion, then understanding, and finally, pure, untamed, wrath.

You snarled and shoved him as hard as you could. Still in a slight state of shock, he stumbled back and you unsheathed two of your three remaining daggers, flipped them so the blade was parallel to your forearms, and braced yourself for his next move. _Better for him to come at me and give me an opening,_ you justified. He regained his balance and his eyes flashed as he snarled. This sound was terrifying and the most animalistic thing you had heard all evening. He leaned forward and you analyzed his movements, waiting for a tell.

His grin turned up in a mix between a grimace and triumph. That’s when you heard several sets of feet pounding down the hall. _That’s not good._ You scanned the room. Before the alpha could move, you grabbed a chair and slid it under the knob, successfully locking you in and the other females out. Henry laughed.

“Silly little girl,” he chuckled, straightening, “You think you can take on me? I’ve battled bigger, better, stronger Hunters than you and come out on top every time.” He took a step to the side. You weren’t about to let him near the door so you just angled your body.

“Silly pup,” you taunted, trying to goad him into lunging at you, “You’ve never gone against the likes of me. But don’t worry, we can fix that.” He took another step.

“You? I can smell your fear. You’re brand new at this. You? By yourself? Take on a third gen lycanthrope and his harem of ten? Ha ha ha! You’re adorable. As soon as I pluck these little stickers from your grasp, I _will_ bite you, you _will_ join me, and if you’re good, I may even let you be the Alpha female,” he said. His stance spoke wonders of his patience. The females on the other side of the door snarled and slammed into the door. You jumped and glanced back.

The next thing you knew, he was on you like white on rice. With an ‘oof!’, he slammed into your middle, taking you to the ground. Your head slammed back into the hardwood floors and your head swam slightly. You growled and brought a knee up and under him. The females crashed against the door again and you noted the wood beginning to buckle.

You jolted to the side in an attempt to roll him beneath you. His body was too wide and you only managed to jostle him. He laughed.

“Not as easy as it seemed, huh, little Hunter?” he chuckled darkly. He brought the stolen dagger up and rested it against your throat. You held in the squeak of fear and glared up at him, hovering over you. As he pushed himself up, you used the small space to bring your knee up and into his rib cage. He grunted and you felt the sting of the sharp blade drew a line across your throat. It wasn’t deep but it stung like a bitch and fueled your anger.

You brought the fist opposite of the knee you just used, up and into his temple. He growled and jumped away. As he did, you followed the punch through, he yowled in pain as the silver sliced through his ear and across his forehead. Now, he was really pissed. He pushed away and clutched his head. The door banged again and splinters sprang from the wood. Faintly, you heard a door being busted through downstairs. You prayed that was the others.

You brought a foot up and kicked Henry in the chest. You felt bones snap and he fell back. In the brief moment it gave you, you rolled back and into a crouched fighting stance. It was then you noticed that, as the Alpha stood, his back began to heave and your eyes grew huge. The more his back heaved, the louder his growls became. The wood splintered again and you saw the faces of several angry women.

Your frightened gaze turned back to the creature in front of you. You were paralyzed with fear as his skin seemed to ripple and his features elongated. His eyes flashed dangerously and he let out a terrible howl.

“(Your name)!”

_(Bestie)._

You heard her downstairs and that’s what you needed. Your mind reconnected and you instinctively let the dagger in your right hand fly. You watched it long enough to see it lodge in the almost complete chest of the Alpha. The lead woman in the process of breaking the door down watched and screamed in fury. You reached around yourself and unsheathed the last dagger just as the woman burst through the door.

It was the one who greeted you, followed by three others. All strong, lithe, and dangerous looking. They stalked in. _Four here, that means six downstairs with the others. Four against six. Yeah, they’ll be okay._ You steadied yourself. The lead woman flicked a wrist and two women moved to the side to surround you. You backed up with a snarl.

“You killed the alpha,” she said dangerously low.

“Yes, and I’ll kill you, too,” you returned, “But I don’t have to if you promise to renounce your ways and join a peaceful pack.” The woman laughed.

“There is but one true way and one true pack,” she insisted with a snarl.

“Then, honey, you and your Stockholm’s friends will die,” you growled back, taking another step back. You chanced a glance at the others around you. These women were the old maids. They were the alphas strongest fighters and most loyal. There would be no convincing them. You sighed to yourself. The alpha female laughed.

“Four of the Beloved’s strongest fighters against a meek newbie Hunter?” she chuckled darkly.

“Funny. Mr. Bones over there said essentially the same thing before I killed him, too,” you taunted. _Really? Now was that really the smartest thing to say?_ your sensible side scolded. Evidentially not. A shrill yowl came from the woman trying to circle back to your left. At the last possible moment, you spun and ducked her attack, swiping a blade across the back of her knees. She hit the ground hard and before you could even comprehend it yourself, you slammed your other dagger through her head Walking Dead style.

The two other women took their advantage and came after you. In a swirl of motion, you let your instincts take over. In the blink of an eye, they laid at your feet.

“(Your name)!”

_Dean!_

You spun to the door, smiling, and watched in slow motion as a silver dagger left his hand, heading straight at you. _What?_

_Not you,_ your sensible side whispered. You felt the breeze as it cut through the air next to your ear. You registered the wet _thunk_ of the blade hitting home. You spun, heart pounding and watched as the alpha female hit the floor, hilt protruding from her forehead. You grinned in triumph and you became aware of your heart rate, high and excited, and your breathing, amped up and energized. You turned back around and gave Dean a dazzling smile.

What you were met with confused you. Dean was half-way in the room, followed closely by (Bestie), then Sam, and finally, Garth. All wore similar faces of distressed shock.

“What are you staring at?” you asked, trying to calm your nerves. You drifted a hand to where your throat stung from the earlier nick.

“It’s fine,” you chuckled breathily, “Tis’ but a flesh wound, I promise.” You looked at Dean, “Seriously….” It was at that point you realized that your breathing was getting even worse and not steadier. Black edged your vision. A dull ache was steadily making itself known from around your kidney area. You looked down.

The dagger that the Alpha took from you was in the now loose grip of the lead woman. Blood, your blood, you realized, was rapidly solidifying of the blade. You twisted, causing you to gasp lightly in pain, to see crimson flowing from a gaping would on the back of your side, not quite the small of your back and not quite your side. _Huh…that’s where the Alpha Douche rested his hand when he led me inside_ , you realized with a roll of your eyes. Your head spun. You looked back at the others, still frozen in shock.

“Well,” you laughed lightly, breathing getting harder and faster, knees starting to tremble, “At least I went out like a badass.” That spurred Dean into movement. At his first step, your knees gave out and the floor rushed up to greet you. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t focus.

Hands on your waist.

Your face.

Your neck.

A sharp pain in your back.

“No!”

_Too late._

“C’mon!”

_Can’t._

A broken whisper heard only by you, “I can’t lose you, too.”

That’s what spurred you. You tried to claw your way out of the darkness. Something about that whisper called to you. You wanted… no, you _needed_ , to fix the brokenness. To help. It hurt you worse than anything to hear the hopelessness of that whisper. To hear the pain in those five little words.

You tried, you really did, but you were too far deep into the darkness and you were far too weak. _No! I… I love him… I… love… him…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned. The last four chapters will be posted as soon as final editing can be done.
> 
> Don't kill me for the cliff hanger!
> 
> Lots of Love,  
> C.O.T.


	27. So sore...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is death really supposed to hurt like this???
> 
> Well crap...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening my darling readers!!!
> 
> Sorry about that last cliff hanger. Hopefully this makes you feel better;)
> 
> Comments below make me happy!  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You grinned as you watched your sister walked down the aisle. Her white dress hugged her beautifully, just tight enough to show off her curves, but loose enough to be decent and acceptable by the old biddies of the Church’s standards. You gently wiped a tear away as you looked in the faces of her mom and dad walking with her. You glanced at Sam.

He had eyes only for her. He had tears brimming at the edges and he wrung his hands nervously. You could see it was taking every effort on his part, not to run and grab her.

“Buck up, man,” Dean chuckled at his side, trying not to make it obvious that he was dew-y eyed as well. You grinned. Sam stepped forward and took (Bestie)’s hand from her dad, and walked her up to the alter. You stepped forward to take her flowers. As she handed them to you, you winked in encouragement. They both stopped in front of you. Confused, you glanced at Dean, who was standing at Sam’s side, grinning at you. You looked out at everyone. They appeared to be watching you.

_Crap, did I have a line or something? Crap, crap, crap…_ you panicked. (Bestie) laughed.

“(Your name).” she said simply. You grinned sheepishly.

“When will she…” You glanced at Dean. He was the one that said it. He smiled at you. You were more confused now than ever. _Why is everyone looking at me?_

“I swear when you… hear me?” That’s Dean’s voice. You were sure, you’d know it anywhere. It sounded so… pained. But he was still smiling at you. You watched as he stepped in front of Sam and (Bestie). You felt a pressure on your hand. You looked down and realized he was holding it.

“Please…” Ugh, that hurt your heart. He sounded so wounded. Why did he sound like that? Then you realized. _Dean’s lips didn’t move._

Pain exploded around you and you gasped. Your back, your throat, your head, your body. Pain, Pain everywhere! The vision in front of you shattered. You groaned.

“(Your name)?!”

_Dean!_ Your Dean. The real Dean.

“(Your name), baby, can you hear me?”

You realized your eyes were closed. You groaned again and tried to remember how to open them. You needed to get them open. You had to get to Dean. You had to make him better. To make his hurt go away.

“(Your name)! Please, I’m here! C’mon, please!”

_I’m trying, dammit!_ A hard pressure tightened on your hand. Your hand! That’s where you hand is. You focused on that anchor. A warmth lit up your cheek. Ah, cheek. Cheek means face, face means… eyes! _Open!_

You groaned again and your eyes fluttered open. You sighed at the feeling and then groaned again. This time it wasn’t necessarily a groan of pain, but of annoyance. _Do the damn lights have to be so friggin’ bright?_ You blinked. Your vision tried to clear, but everything was still fuzzy. You heard an excited gasp beside you and a dark blob entered your field of vision.

“(Your name)! I’m right here, hun, I promise.”

_Dean._ You felt your lips pull into a grin. They cracked from dryness but that didn’t matter. You had your Dean. Something moved toward your face and you whimpered slightly until the world snapped into clarity. _Oh yeah, glasses._ You blinked into focus and sucked in a breath. Though the haze of pain, Dean solidified in front of you. You could have cried. You worked your throat, trying to say his name but nothing happened. You sighed and attempted to sit up. You hissed as sheer pain stabbed through your back and shoulders, making your eyes slam shut, your brow scrunch, and your head spin.

“Easy, easy, don’t try that just yet,” Dean said, hovering close to you. The big, warm hand not on yours, lightly forced your shoulders down. The stab numbed back to the ache it was before and you regained equilibrium. You looked back up at Dean. He was looking at you, green eyes ringed in red and damp, grinning so wide, his pearly whites flashed.

“Dean,” you whispered. It felt like glass running across your windpipes.

“Right here, (Your name), I’m right here,” his hand tightened on your and the other hand skimmed down to land on your waist. (Bestie) came walking in. She screamed and dropped the stuff in her arms. You winced as the loud noise shot a lance through your head.

“(Your name)! You're awake! OhmyGodyou’reawakeohthankGod(Yourname)Iwassoworriedyoualmostdiedandtherewassomuchbloodandyoudidn’twakeupandDeanandtheAlphaandtheothersandohmyGodyoudumbassdon’teverdothattomeagaindoyouhearme?ofcourseyoudo’causeyoureawakeand-“ she rambled until she couldn’t breathe. You chuckled lightly and groaned as the movement hurt your back.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, sitting on the bed next to you, “You really scared us though.”

“Can’t get rid… of me… that easy, bitch,” you chuckled, wincing at the pain in your throat and back. (Bestie) rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. You whimpered and tried to reach for her hand. “It’s okay, I promise, I’m going to go get the doctor so he can get you pain meds.” It was then you realized that you were in a hospital. You watched her practically run out of the room. You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your head back. You were so tired even though the stiffness in your joints told you that you had most likely been out for a while. You felt the hand on your waist leave and the hand holding yours start to pull away.

“Don’t even,” you whispered, twitching your fingers around Dean’s. He chuckled and you felt the hand settle. You heard his clothes rustle as his moved his chair closer to your bed. You gathered energy again and opened your eyes to look at him. He was trying to move the chair as silently and as close as he possibly could, but keeping his hand in yours made it very difficult. You sighed and let his hand go. His head whipped around, concern plastered all over his features. You rolled your eyes, _hey that didn’t hurt!_ , and looked pointedly at the chair and back up at Dean.

He looked at the chair and back at you and it clicked. He quickly moved the chair, sat and returned, wrapping his hands around yours. You chuckled lightly and just took him in. His face was drawn and tired. He had dark circles under his eyes that were darker than when you had first met him. His green eyes were dull and ringed with a pink color. So many emotions ran over his face. Of all of them, the most prominent were exhaustion, relief, and… _love_. That’s the emotion you had been trying to name. He had been trying to hide it before but all the blocks were out of the way, now.

“What are you staring at?” he asked quietly, a smile playing at his lips.

“Just…” you coughed slightly, trying to clear some of the glass. Dean looked around and located the water pitcher the nurse had brought in earlier. He took his hand for a moment, and you watched as he gingerly poured a small glass. You lifted your arm meekly, to take it. He looked at you, dubious, and held it to you. You fingers wrapped around it and frowned when you couldn’t find the grip strength to properly hold the cup.

“Mhmm, that’s what I thought,” Dean mumbled and pulled the cup out of your hand, only to bring it to your lips. You rolled your eyes again and he chuckled. You sipped slowly, until the cool water was gone. You sighed again. Dean pulled back.

“I was just going to say… that I was reading you,” you replied, glad the glass was mostly gone. Now your only concern was the fact that you couldn’t draw in a full breath because of a tightness around your middle. You glanced down. _Why are hospital gowns so ugly?_ you groaned inwardly. You took the hand Dean had been holding at touched you waist. Thick, rough gauze met your fingertips through the light gown material. You couldn’t help the next sigh. The doctor came in.

“Ah, Miss (Your last name), you’ve awakened! Good, good, good,” he boomed. You winced and you hand sought Dean’s. He took it gently and squeezed your fingers.

“I’m just going to do some evaluations and then we’ll see about getting you some pain meds,” he explained, “That sound good?”

“Not enough to knock… me out, just to… dull it, please,” you requested.

“You sure about that?” he asked, concern flashing through his eyes. You nodded. “Okay. Whatever you want.”

(Bestie) slid into the room and stood behind Dean. The doctor shooed Dean away for a second so he could look over you. Panic seeped into your eyes.

“We’re right here, (Your name),” Dean said, knowing that look. You nodded and then rolled your eyes at your own fangirl tendencies.

“The laceration on your throat looks good and you don’t appear to have a concussion,” the doctor said, pulling away, “Now comes the hard part. I’ve got to listen to your lungs and check that wound on your back. That means I have to lean you forward and, just fair warning, it’s not going to feel good at all.” You nodded and braced yourself.

Dean came up and sat on the bed next to you. The doctor eased one hand under one shoulder and the other under the uninjured side. He pulled you forward and you hissed and scrunched your face up. Pain flared white and hot across your back and up your neck. You head began to spin again. Once sitting upright, Dean pulled you to his shoulder and you gripped the front of his shirt with as much force you could manage. You settled and let out the breath you’d been holding.

“Sonovabiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch,” you groaned, quietly. The doctor, Dean, and (Bestie) chuckled. Okay, it must not have been as quietly as you thought it was. The doctor quickly checked everything and Dean eased you back down to the bed. You hissed again but bit your tongue.

“Okay, Miss (Your last name), all looks well. It’s a good thing that mugger left a clean cut,” he said. You looked confused and then it clicked. Oh yeah, cover story. “I’ll get your nurse to bring you some good painkiller.” You nodded, sleep pulling at your eyelids. The doctor left and Dean took his spot in the chair and (Bestie) sat on your other side, next to your hip, and held your other hand in her lap, careful not to dislodge any of the monitors and tubes that was there.

“So what happened when I… checked out?” you asked.

‘You passed out from blood loss,” (Bestie) said, gently, “You wuss. Can’t even handle a dagger to the back!” You chuckled.

“Sorry, I’ll handle it… better next time,” you responded, sarcastically. Dean groaned and rolled his eyes.

“I almost caught you when you fell over, but you kinda kissed the floor before I got to you,” Dean blushed. You chuckled again.

“After that, I freaked out and thought you died and that your bitch ass left me to deal with not only Mama but your crazy mother AND your boyfriend-not-boyfriend AND planning to put fun into your funeral,” (Bestie) rambled, “Sam had to hold me back ‘cause I tried to take you from Dean.”

“Yeah, I took my shirt off and everything,” he chuckled.

“Aw, and I missed it?” you groaned.

“Yeap,” he looked at you seriously again, “I tucked my shirt under your corset to try to keep you from bleeding out any more. Held you in my lap in the back of the Impala, while Sam drove like a bat out of Hell, no pun intended, to get you to the hospital.” You saw the fear and pain cross his eyes as he relived the scene.

“When we all got here, Sam explained that you had gotten mugged and that they had stabbed you in the back when Dean tried to help,” (Bestie) snorted, “They patched you up and gave you blood and when you didn’t wake up, they said they had done all that they could do and it was up to you to find your way back.” She looked away, tears in her eyes.

“How long?” you asked quietly.

“Three days,” Dean answered, not looking at you, fingers tightening briefly around yours.

“Dean wouldn’t leave your side,” (Bestie) sniffled and winked at you, “The rest of us took turns watching the both of you.” Dean blushed.

“Where are the others?” you asked, wondering if it was a good idea that you were stealing blood from the other parts of your body to blush.

“At the apartment,” (Bestie) said, “I called them before I came in. They’re gonna let you take a catnap and then come up and visit before the families, friends and church support teams take numbers.” You chuckled.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. Silence enveloped you three and sleep threatened to overcome your closed eyes.

“Well,” (Bestie) cleared her throat awkwardly, “I’m going to get a new cup of coffee and get a book to read while you nap.” She patted your hand and stood, pressing a kiss to your forehead before walking out of the room. Before she walked out of the door, she winked at you and looked pointedly at Dean before making a kiss-y face at you. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Dean looked up and (Bestie) jumped through the door. Dean looked at you curiously.

“Nothing,” you chuckled, “She did something silly.”

“Gotcha,” he grinned. You sat for a moment, just looking at each other. Dean started to say something but changed his mind.

“What?” you smiled. He blushed.

“Nothin’,” he said, rubbing his free hand across the back of his neck, grinning. You sighed.

“When are you gonna learn that you can’t lie to me?” you chuckled. He sighed at looked at you again, debating. He rolled his eyes.

“I was gonna ask what, exactly, where you reading before,” he said quietly. Curiosity, wariness, and amusement spilling across his brightening greens. You grinned.

“You’re tired,” you answered.

“Anything else?” He laughed, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand.

“You were happy that I woke up,” you said quietly. His blush darkened.

“I was… You have no idea…” he said quietly, eyes softening.

“Not to sound cheesy or anything… but I think I’m starting to,” you laughed lightly. He groaned at your bad joke and leaned back in his chair before leaning back up.

“Seriously though… Between watching the woman come up behind you, watching you fall forward, and then hearing (Bestie)’s blood curdling scream behind me… It was… It was hard,” He said quietly. You sat for a moment digesting what he just told you. You tried to picture it but it hurt too much to think about how your sister would react to you being dead. It hurt almost as much imagining Dean’s face as you fell forward. You remembered his broken whisper. You tightened you hand around his and he looked up at you, tears threatening to spill over.

“I heard what you said,” you said, quietly, just over a whisper.

“What?” he asked, just as quiet. Realization, flitted through his face and the caution. You could almost hear his thoughts. _Does she mean…? If she does, then… How does she feel? How do I feel? She couldn’t… could she?_

“You know what my last thought was?” you asked gently, feeling your own tears prickle at your eyes.

“How could I?” he laughed wetly, rolling his eyes. You chuckled.

“I heard you say ‘I can’t lose you, too’ and all I wanted to do was fight back. Fight the darkness so I could heal the pain in your voice because I… I love you,” you whispered, smiling. His eyes grew big and he laughed in disbelief.

“Really?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and wiped your eyes.

“No, I fabricated everything,” you snorted, “Yes, dumbass. Now kiss me, tell me you love me, too, and let me take a nap.” He chuckled.

You felt your heart rate soar, for a moment, you were glad you didn’t have one of those beep-y heart monitors on, as he looked you in the eyes. He glanced at your lips and then your eyes again, not believing you were actually serious.

“Don’t make me try to ge-“ He leaned forward and his warm, soft, slightly chapped lips engulfed yours. You sighed happily and kissed him back. His hand came up and cupped your chin, the tip of his index just burrowing into your hair as his thumb rested on your cheek in front of your ear. Your heart swelled until you thought it would burst. After a long moment, he pulled away. His forehead brushed yours as you looked at each other.

“I love you, too,” he whispered. You chuckled and pressed you lips to his again, lightly. That much emotion plus the tight bandage around your middle had you breathing hard.

“Good,” you chuckled, breathily, “I’m taking a nap now.” He chuckled and sat back in his seat. You sighed happily. He kept his hand entwined with yours as you let some much needed sleep overtake you.


	28. Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in the land of the living, you sighed, happily. 
> 
> Now for the hard part:
> 
> Staying still!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi;)
> 
> Are we feeling better?   
> Love me again, (even though there are only three chapters including this one left?)
> 
> Let me know below!!  
> OXOX,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

You heard Sam laugh at the foot of your bed. You felt the bed shake beneath you as (Bestie) giggled at your feet. You slowly became aware of everyone around you. Most specifically, you felt Dean’s hand still entwined with yours. You yawned and opened your eyes. They were all watching Garth who was quietly telling a story complete with hand motions. You smiled. Everyone looked tired but happy. Garth noticed you.

“(Your name)!” he said. Everyone turned to look at you. You laughed.

“Please go on,” you laughed, “I want to hear about this ‘bite in the process.’” He blushed. Dean’s hand tightened around yours and you met his eyes.

“How’re you feelin’?” he asked gently. You took stock. Your knee was sore from the faceplant, you had a dull ache running through your back and shoulders, neck stung with movement but nothing you couldn’t handle, and your headache was nearly gone.

“Better than I felt earlier, for sure, but still sore,” you answered, “Help me sit up.”

“That’s not really a go-“ Dean started. You gave him a look. He sighed and reached up to the side of the bed where the control panel was. You rolled your eyes as the bed made the slow, mechanical grind to an upright position. When the angle got steep and you had to adjust, you winced and bit back unfriendly words. (Bestie) took your hand and you squeezed it. Once settled, you took a deep breath and made sure your head was steady.

“Much better,” you sighed, “Hi Sam, Garth.”

“Hey Pincushion,” Sam grinned. Dean groaned.

“Dude, you promised!” he argued. You giggled and brushed your thumb over his hand.

“What? It made her laugh! They say laughter is the best medicine,” he argued, winking at you. You chuckled again and rolled your eyes. Dean just rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“Hey, let me know when you want to change clothes,” (Bestie) said, “Doc says he want to keep you for twenty-four more hours just to make sure you don’t turn into a zombie or bleed out through your stitches, so I brought you so clothes so you don’t have to face people in that gawd awful gown.”

“Yes!” you said, “Boys, out!” You directed, beyond ready to put on pants and a shirt that wasn’t in danger of showing your hard nipples to men who weren’t Dean. _Did you really just ... ??? No,_ you grinned to yourself, _no, you didn’t._ The boys chuckled and got up.

“You hungry, darlin’?” Dean asked, stopping at the door. He had to say something.

“Yes, please,” you answered, suddenly starving.

“What would you like?” he grinned. You smiled at (Bestie).

“Ice cream!” you answered. You and (Bestie) giggled like two-year-olds. Dean rolled his eyes and walked out the door.

“So,” (Bestie) grinned, moving to the overnight bag under the bed, “You guys have kinky, gimpy sex when I left?” You busted out laughing only to groan in pain when the movement jarred your back.

“Kinky, gimpy sex? Umm yeah, that would be a definite no,” you chuckled.

“Aw, c’mon! The sexual tension was unbearable!” she laughed, pulling out your ‘Hogwarts’ pants and one of Dean’s button-up plaids.

“Yeah, I can barely sit up without calling the bed a bitch, let alone have sex,” you rolled your eyes and tried to move your legs to the side of the bed. You winced as you twisted your torso. You felt the stitches burn and pull on your side. (Bestie) chuckled and helped you moved. When you tried to stand up, she stopped you.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?” she asked, concern filling her voice.

“I’ve got to pee,” you chuckled.

“Your ass is about to use a bedpan,” she returned. You gave her a disgusted look.

“Nope,” you grunted, sliding forward, “I’m going to use the bathroom like a civilized person. Either help me or back up.” She rolled her eyes. She knew from experience that when you put your mind to something, you usually did it. She hand one your uninjured side and braced the other low on your injured side’s hip.

“Thank god you’re straight and my sister,” you grunted, putting one hand on her shoulder and the other on the bed. She chuckled. You used her body for support as you slowly slid off the bed. You hissed and gritted your teeth as your body straightened and hit the floor.

“You can cuss,” she said gently, “I won’t judge.”

“Son of a fucking whore slut wagon!” you groaned, settling your weight on your feet, careful not to put too much weight on your bad knee. (Bestie) burst into full body, shaking laughter. It was infectious and made you grin through your pain.

“That was… that was creative,” she laughed, wiping an eye. You two made a slow walk to the bathroom. She helped you sit and you let out another colorful combination as your muscles in your back and hips spasmed. (Bestie) chuckled but concern didn’t leave her eyes. After you did your business, you freshened yourself up. You made the walk back, trying your hardest to support yourself and not lean on (Bestie). She helped you into fresh underwear and the loose pants and guided the shirt up your arms. You buttoned it up and climbed back into bed, colorful curses all the way.

When you settled, you sighed deeply. (Bestie) looked at you, tears in her eyes. You smiled gently and scooted yourself to the side and patted the bed next to you. She immediately crawled up next to you, leaned into your shoulder, and started crying. You soothed her by making shushing noises and rubbing your thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. You wanted to wrap your arm around her but you couldn’t lift your arm up that far. After a while, her bone jarring sobs started to abate.

“I’m sorry I made you think I was dead,” you whispered against her temple. She may have been the older one but when it came to times like these, you both took on the ‘big sister’ roles. She snuffled.

“I was so scared,” she whispered against your shoulder.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said.

“Between the werewolves and seeing him press you against the car,” she shivered, “When we were fighting downstairs, Sam got thrown across the room and was out cold for about a minute. I had to keep fighting to keep them away… And I couldn’t see you… I always make sure I can see you, but I couldn’t. You were in trouble and I couldn’t get to you… I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you.”

“Shh, shh, you did get to me. You protected your Sam and my Dean and Garth, then you came for me,” you said gently, squeezing her hand, “You have nothing to be sorry for… And besides, I’m here, I’m healing, Imma be okay.” She nodded and gripped your hand hard and cried some more.

“Don’t ever… _ever_ , do that to me again,” she scolded, finally looking up at you and wiping her eyes. You gave her a wry grin.

“No promises,” she looked like she was about to slap you and you circled a finger over your face, “Accident prone, remember?” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. There was a knock at your door.

“Come in,” you called. Sam stuck his head in.

“Can we come back in now?” he grinned. You laughed lightly and nodded. A mischievous look invaded the usually docile man’s eyes. The door was thrown open wide to reveal a mass of balloons in varying shapes, sizes and colors. You groaned and covered your hand with your free hand. Garth followed behind Sam with a giant stuffed puppy and an obscenely huge card. Dean followed with a two bags through which, in one, you spotted caramel sauce. All three guys were grinning ear to ear and looked extremely proud of themselves.

“Really, guys? Y’all are such dorks,” you giggled.

“Ice cream!” (Bestie) shouted, abandoning you and snatching a bag from Dean. You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks for leaving me!” you joked. Her eyes went you and flashed, “What, too soon?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, (Your nickname), six seconds is too soon,” she chuckled. You winked at her. The boys settled in as (Bestie) offered to dish up the impromptu ice cream celebration. The doctor came in and shook his head at the ice cream, but accepted when you offered him a bowl. He checked your stitches and your eyes, the boys politely turning away when you had to lift up your shirt. He gave you the all clear and gave you some pain medicine and said you’d be ready to leave tomorrow. You thanked him and he ducked out. You all sat contentedly with your bowls.

“So what’s my grade for my first assignment?” you joked, aiming the question at Sam.

“B minus,” he laughed.

“What? I took out the alpha AND three of his harem! That should at least be an A minus,” you complained.

“But you almost got killed. That’s major point deduction,” he scolded. You pouted.

“Be nice to Sam because I failed you,” Dean laughed, poking your leg. You stuck your tongue out at him. His eyes flashed dangerously and flicked to the others. You winked at him. (Bestie) scoffed.

“No eye sex while the rest of us are in here!” she scolded. You blushed and dove into your ice cream.

“Eye sex? What in the world?” Ms. Sarah came whirling in. Your eyes grew huge and blush rushed into you cheeks. Dean cleared his throat and looked at his ice cream.

“Ms. Sarah! Hi!” you squeaked. She laughed.

“Hi, my bad luck child,” she grinned, walking other to you to gently wrap you in a hug. Joe followed behind her and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes and leaned into them.

“Now what's this about eye sex?” she asked, crossing her arms and pegging (Bestie).

“It’s not me this time, I swear,” she laughed, abandoning her ice cream bowl in her lap to put her hands up in surrender, “That would be the injured one who just confessed her undying love to the rugged Ken doll over there.” Your jaw dropped and your eyes grew huge. You threw your spoon at her and wince when the action pulled your stitches sharply. Dean almost fell out of his chair and everyone burst into laughter. You buried your face in your hands and tried not to laugh.

Ms. Sarah wasn’t laughing. She slowly walked around the bed to stand in front of Dean. The look on Dean’s face was pure embarrassment and terror. She waited for the room to quiet down. Dean shifted nervously, pushing his spoon around in the melted dregs of remaining ice cream.

“I’m guessing you’re the ‘rugged Ken doll’ (Bestie) is referring to?” she asked dangerously.

“Um… ah… Yeah ah yes! Yes, ma’am. I believe so,” he stuttered, looking up at her from his seat.

“You love her?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, more than anything,” he answered immediately. Her face broke into a huge grin and she winked at him.

“About daggum time!” she laughed, pulling him into a hug. Dean, shocked, looked at you with utter confusion. You laughed and shook your head and he cautiously hugged her back as the others joined in.

It wasn’t long before everyone grew comfortable and began telling stories to amuse each other. They carefully avoided mentioning monsters for Sarah’s sake but had fun all the same. You finished your ice cream and Dean wordlessly cleaned up you bowl. He sat back down and interlaced his fingers in yours and sat so that as much of his arm laid against yours as possible. He winked at you and then added his two-sense into Sam’s story. You sighed and just watched them happily.

Various people came to the soon over crowded room to wish you well and check up on you. Some stayed and chit chatted for a bit while others came, gave you a card and left. All too soon though, the nurse came in and gave you another dose of pain meds. You yawned.

“Okay, everyone,” Ms. Sarah commanded gently, “Everyone out. Let her sleep.” Ms. Sarah and Joe came and hugged you again, Garth awkwardly patted your shin, and Sam gave you a light hug. (Bestie) laughed and held you close.

“Your vacation’s over tomorrow,” she warned, “Then you can’t be belly-aching about how sore you are.”

“Wanna bet on that?” you teased. She rolled her eyes and took Sam’s hand. They left and Dean sighed next to you, not intending to move from his spot. You yawned again.

“Dean,” you said.

“Hmm?” he opened his previously closed eyes and looked at you, eyes smoldering.

“’m cold,” you smiled. You shifted over and patted the bed next to you. Dean grinned and sighed. He took his boots and carefully sat next to you. You hit the ‘recline’ button on the bed and it began its slow, grind back down. You and Dean chuckled at the exaggerated slowness. Once it stopped, Dean turned on his side and put his bottom arm under your pillow and his top arm rested across your hips. You sighed and turned your face into his shoulder.

“Much better,” you whispered.

“Agreed,” he chuckled. He pressed a light kiss to your forehead. You giggled and pressed one to his arm. He sighed and scooted closer.

“I love you, (Your name),” he said quietly, after a few moments.

“I know,” you chuckled. You could almost hear his eye roll. You cuddled your head deeper into his chest.

“I love you, too, Dean,” you mumbled. You soon fell asleep.


	29. Home again!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got the all clear to go home. It's nice to be surrounded by home again.
> 
> And when home is a 6'2" handsome hunk of demon killer it's even better;)
> 
> ****NOTE***  
> THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT. (You know you like it haha) HOWEVER, if smut is not your thing, feel free to stop reading at the mention of 'hotspots', and just read the last 3 sentences of the chapter. -C.O.T.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My loves, it's down to the wire!!
> 
> Is your heart ready to blow yet???  
> No?  
> Well... I'll ask again at the end of this chapter;)  
> Comments welcome! (and feedback on my first smut scene would be appreciated<3)  
> XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress

The next morning, Dean helped you get up and go to the bathroom. You chuckled at how red his ears got. Once you were done, he helped you back into bed. Sam, (Bestie) and Garth came in not five minutes after.

“Why are you guys so obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Be nice, we brought food,” (Bestie) laughed. Dean groaned in satisfaction. You chuckled. (Bestie) pulled your tray out and laid out a big breakfast of homemade pancakes, sausage, and bacon. It smelled wonderful. She pulled out a thermos of hot chocolate for you and a thermos of coffee for Dean. He moaned and took a big inhale of the coffee.

“If that’s what it takes for me to get you to make those noises, then I’ve got the easiest job in the world,” you chuckled, nudging his shoulder. He chuckled. You all ate in comfortable silence. Just as you finished, your doctor came in.

“How are we feeling today, Miss (Your last name)?” he asked.

“Really sore and stiff, but I can walk fairly well on my own and my head doesn’t whirl around when I get vertical,” you dutifully replied.

“Walk? (Your name), did you get up?” he asked, giving you a look. You grinned sheepishly.

“I don’t sit still very well,” you replied. He fought to keep his eyes from rolling.

“Lean forward so I can check your stitches, please,” he ordered. You did and winced when they pulled. He lightly prodded and pushed, pulling the bandage away a little.

“Well, you didn’t seem to do any damage. Your nurse will come in, in a little while, and teach your sister how to change your bandages,” he said, letting you lean back, “After that, you can have someone go down to the pharmacy and pick up your antibiotics to keep the inflammation down and the pain meds to keep you comfortable. At noon, I’ll come in and let you free.”

“Thanks, doc, for patching me up,” you said.

“That’s my job. You should be thanking your boyfriend, here, for thinking to put his shirt underneath your corset. If it wasn’t for that you’d’ve bled out before you even got here,” he explained. You nodded and tightened your fingers around Dean’s. His ears turned pink.

The nurse came in and the boys stepped out. You hissed as the dressing pulled at the tender sewn edges. She showed (Bestie) how to clean it and rewrap in and then showed you how to clean and bandage your neck. You thanked her and she left. (Bestie) started to gather your collection of cards, balloons, the big, stuffed dog, and the remainder of the food. The boys walked back in. Dean had already gotten your prescriptions.

Noon rolled around and the doctor came back in. He worked with your leg to ensure that your knee wasn’t damaged and then stood you up. Dean supported you with a hand around you hip as you walked to and fro. Satisfied, the doctor gave you final instructions and signed your all clear. Sam, (Bestie) and Garth went ahead so they could put thing in their cars and so Sam could pull the Impala around. Dean stayed with you and walked slowly.

“This is even more embarrassing than the foot thing,” you grumbled as you caught yet another woman staring you down like it was your fault they couldn’t get a hot physical therapist.

“You could be in a wheelchair,” he chuckled.

“Would be faster,” you argued.

“I would carry you but I don’t want to pop your stitches,” he laughed. You gave the idea serious thought. “No,” he said, noting your look. You stuck you tongue out at him.

Once at the car, Dean lowered you in and Sam moved to (Bestie)’s car. You grinned at her and waggled your eyebrows at Sam’s back. She chuckled and went pink and then retaliated by leaning forward to look at Dean’s ass and then give you an exaggerated wink. You chuckled.

“Whatcha laughin’ at?” he smiled, settling in the driver’s seat.

“(Bestie) likes your ass,” you chuckled. He laughed and winked at her through the windshield. She laughed and went pink. You sighed finally leaving the hospital. You scooted to the middle of the bench seat to lean against Dean. Since you woke up that first time, it was rare to find a moment when you two weren’t touching. He looked down and took your hand.

“So what now?” you asked quietly. Dean, catching your drift, sighed.

“Now, Sammy and I bum around and wait for you to get a little better and then we go from there,” he said quietly. At the word ‘go’, your heart hurt. You didn’t want him to go. Well, not without you, at least. You kissed his shoulder and he rubbed the back of your hand. Neither of you said anything the rest of the ride.

Back at the apartment, Sam made a run for supplies for Dean to cook dinner that night. Burgers, homemade French fries, and salad. Garth stuck around until after dinner, after that, he pulled you into a gentle hug.

“Sorry you got hurt, (Your name),” he said.

“Aw, don’t worry about it. You didn’t attack me and if the bitch hadn’t’ve stabbed me, I probably would have tripped leaving and poked myself,” you giggled, “Sorry we couldn’t talk any of them into joining your pack.”

“You tried, that’s what matters,” he said. You shrugged.

“See you around sometime?” you asked, pulling away.

“Maybe,” he laughed. He gave (Bestie), Sam, and finally, Dean, hugs and then left. After a movie and a nice alcoholic drink, you went to bed. Dean followed not far behind.

“(Bestie) and Sam went to bed, too,” he chuckled, “But the look she was giving him, I don’t think that’s what they were going to do.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“She’s had an emotional past couple days,” you said, scooting up to Dean when he laid down.

“We all have,” he grumbled, gently wrapping an arm around you and burying his lips in your hair. You looked up at him. His eyes were tired and somewhat sad, but happiness and love shone above all.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked quietly. He thought for a moment.

“I was thinking about how scared I was when I saw the woman stab you… and how scared I was when the doctors said you might not wake up… and how happy I was when your hand tightened around mine and you woke up,” he whispered, eyes travelling all over your face as if trying to memorize it, “It’s been a long time since someone could scare me like that or make me that happy just by breathing.”

“Me too,” you said. He kissed your forehead. You leaned into his lips. You tucked your head under his chin and thought. You tried to picture your life when he left. You heart lurched and squeezed at the thought of laying in this bed without him beside you. You didn’t want him to go. You almost ventured to say you _couldn’t_ see him go. _No._ He forever changed your life and there wouldn’t be any going back. That much was obvious the moment you decided to get up and talk to him while (Bestie) chatted up Sam. No, your decision was made. You’d talk to (Bestie) about it in the morning, but you knew. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth. Or the ends of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, for that matter. You chuckled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Just thinking about how I only met you… Six days ago, and I’ve already decided that I love you and that I’m going to run away with you,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his throat. He pulled back to look at you.

“What?” he asked again.

“I’m too stubborn to let you walk out of here with my heart and, if it’s with you, I don’t want it back,” you scoffed, “Hunting is exciting. Believe it or not, I enjoyed taking the alpha down. The only not fun part is when I had to flirt with him and then his top bitch poked me. A little more practice, and I’ll be fairly lethal. To anything.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, (Your name),” he said, evenly, “Nobody would willingly sign up for this life.” You pulled away so he could see you roll your eyes.

“I’m not signing up for the life,” you said, matter-of-factly, “I’m signing up for you… and if signing up for you means I’ve gotta stick knives it life-stealing creatures, then so be it.”

“What about your family? Your life here? What if your sister doesn’t want to come with you?” he asked. You shrugged.

“My family would understand. I’d come back for a little while next semester to finish my degree but other than that, I was planning on traveling anyway. As for my sister, if she doesn’t come, too, she’ll at least understand,” you said. Dean sighed.

“Your family will be put in danger you know that, right? Did you think about that?” he asked.

“I’ll put as much protection as I can before we leave. After that, I’ll check in and I’m sure Joe would let us know if anything seemed amiss,” you rebutted. Dean didn’t say anything. A seed of doubt made itself known. “I mean… unless you don’t want me to come.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Of course I want you to come,” he said, “I don’t want to think about putting you in the rearview and letting you move on. I’ve been happier and more relaxed here, with you, than I have since… I don’t know, since before Sam went to college. I selfishly want you with me but you deserve better.” You rolled your eyes.

“And with everything you’ve done, you deserve to retire and have endless pie shoved in your pie hole, but are you going to do that? No, you’re not. You’re going to keep going, keep saving people, keep doin’ your job. I’ve decided my job is to be there, right next to you, so that on the bad nights I’m there for you to vent to and on the good days, I’m there for you to laugh and cuddle with,” you finished. He looked at you amazed.

“That’s a difficult task you’re signing up for,” he warned.

“Do I look the type to back down?” you grinned. He grinned. You leaned forward and kissed him.

“You made me dance,” you kissed him again, “That means you’re stuck with me.” He chuckled and claimed your lips.

“If that’s what you want,” he decided. You answered by kissing him deeply. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in close. It was warm and loving. His fingers brushed the sensitive spot between your shoulders. You broke away to gasp as a shiver traveled down your spine. A mischievous look invaded and darkened the greens. He ran his fingers lightly over the spot again and your eyes fluttered shut as you drew in a breath. He chuckled.

“Miss (Your name),” he growled, “Is your hot spot(*) between your shoulder blades?” As he spoke, his fingers brushed the spot again. With a light groan you pressed your lips to his and pressed against him. He groaned and grabbed your hip just under the bandage.

“Yes,” you sighed, “Yes, it is.”

“Good to know,” he growled. His lips met yours and fire ran through you. You kissed him and sank a hand into his hair. He moaned and leaned into your hand. You chuckled and pushed him onto his back. You followed and winced only slightly as you laid on top of him, your legs settled between his, his hands on your hips and yours in his hair.

“You’re doin’ it again, Miss (Your name),” he growled deeply.

“Doin’ what, exactly,” you grinned.

“Gettin’ me all fired up for nothin’,” he groaned. Your eyes flashed.

“Who said it was for nothin’?” you asked, innocently smiling up at him. His eyes flew wide and looked at you.

“(Your name), you sure about this?” You nodded.

“But you’re injured.” You shrugged and kissed him. His hands tightened on your hips and he moaned under you. You felt the vibrations from his chest against your hardening nipples and you sighed heavily. Dean came to his senses briefly and gently rolled you over so that you were beneath him, his knee between your legs.

“I’ll be right back,” he rushed. You pulled him down with a laugh and pressed his lips to yours. You tugged slightly on a lock of his hair. He groaned and his hips pressed down on yours. You felt the hardness forming against your hip. Your hips ground against his thigh and you let out a moan. He caught it with his mouth and pressed against you again. You hissed slightly as the pressure pushed your stitches against the mattress. He looked at you worriedly.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you grinned, pulling him back down. He moaned in frustration and pulled away.

“Be right back,” he pecked your lips, “promise.” You whimpered as he sat up and rushed to the door. He came back a moment later with condom from his duffle. He set it on the nightstand and climbed over you again. You pulled at the hem of his shirt. He all but ripped it off. You gazed at him. You ran your hands over his sculpted chest, across his tightened nipples, making him shiver and groan, and down his abs. He leaned forward and claimed your lips. His hands making quick work of the buttons of his shirt on you.

You sat up carefully, and slid the shirt off your shoulders, leaving your chest bare to him. His hands glided down your arms, pushing the fabric. He tossed it to the center of the room without breaking the kiss, and eased you back. His rough hands ran up and down your ribs, thumbs brushing the sides of your boobs and briefly underneath them. Your hands darted to his hair and you moaned. Dean kissed the skin behind your ear, trailed down your neck and he nipped the skin just above your heart.

You looked down and hummed, smiling. Seeing him grinning up at you, green eyes glittering, your fingers brushing through his hair, sent shivers down your spine and warmth straight between your legs. He held your eyes as he slowly kissed from your heart to one of your hardened nipples. His warmth breath ghosted over it and you sighed, jaw dropping. He winked, _winked_ , and wrapped his lips around the nub.

“Dean,” you sighed, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. Dean moaned in response and another round of electricity shot down your spine and to your core. After a moment, he picked his head up and caught your eye again.

“Hearing you say my name like that, (Your name),” he moaned, “ugh God, it’s perfect.” He kissed across your chest and took up the other nub.

“Dean,” you sighed, a little louder and a little higher pitched. Dean moaned again and his hips rolled against your thigh. You moaned. A hand trailed from your side, over the bandage, over your hip, and cupped you through your sleep pants. Your hips rolled and he growled against you. He immediately sat up and smoothed his hands to your waist band.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked roughly.

“Yes, Dean, I am,” you smiled. He groaned and kissed your belly as he gently removed your remaining clothes. Once thrown to the center of the room, he stood and removed his sleep pants. He sprung out and you couldn’t help but stare. It’s not like you hadn’t seen male genitalia before, you just hadn’t seen someone quite so… _well endowed_. You were suddenly nervous about how exactly _that_ was going to fit _there_.

“Don’t worry,” Dean said gently, drawing your gaze back up to his eyes, “Slow and gentle, I promise.” He winked and you couldn’t help but giggle. He laid back over you, kissing you deeply, leaning on one elbow. You had one hand in his hair and one on his chest. His other hand trailed across your hip and down. You gasped was he nudged your thighs apart and dipped a single finger between the lips.

“Ugh, you’re so wet for me, (Your name),” he groaned. You felt him twitch against your hip. That only turned you on even more. His rough finger rubbed deeper and slowly sank into you. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you moaned loudly.

“Damn, baby, you’re tight,” he chuckled and began to move in and out. He sucked a mark into your neck and you tried to get your breathing under control. He pulled out and slid back in, this time adding another finger.

“Dean,” you groaned, hand tightening in his hair and slightly scratching his chest. He growled and kissed you. Your hips bucked and you hissed as the motion pulled your stitches. He pressed his hips harder on yours to keep them still. His manhood pressed into your hip, tightly, you could feel it pulsing. He moaned into your shoulder. He added another finger.

You let out what could only be considered a low keening sound and you felt a slow burn as you stretched to accommodate him. You felt so full and your stomach began to tighten. He chuckled and ever so slightly, gently began to spread his fingers. You bite his shoulder to stifle your moan.

“(Your name),” he growled, rocking his hips, grinding into you. You felt the wetness from him caught between your hips. After a few minutes, he pulled out from you and you whimpered at the loss. He chuckled. Whenever you had thought about it, and you did, you were no stranger to smutty fanfiction, you had thought it would gross you to see your guy lick you off his fingers. You were never happier to be so wrong. He met your eyes and you bit your lip as he cleaned his fingers off. He reached for the condom.

You watched him open the package with his teeth and pull it out. He caught you eyeing it and he chuckled again.

“Wanna help?” he asked. Gawd, his sex voice was even more enticing than his morning voice. Your eyes flashed as you nodded. You sat up and took it from him, as he leaned back.

“Just hold the end and roll it down over me,” he instructed. You grinned. You reached over and wrapped a hand around him lightly. His eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned as his hips rutted himself against your hand. You chuckled darkly.

“Eager are you?” you said, silkily. He met your eye and realized just what you were going to do. He gripped the sheet and you tightened your hand just a little.

“(Your name), c’mon now! Be nice,” he chuckled as he rutted up into your hand again. You leaned forward and kissed him and pumped him once, twice, thrice. He caught your wrist. “You are not going to turn Dean Winchester into a minute man,” he growled playfully. You laughed and eased the condom over him. He groaned again and immediately laid you back, pulling a pillow down to cushion your stitches and your hips.

He covered your body with his and held himself at the base, you threaded your hands through his hair. He looked you in the eye, silently asking one more time. You nodded. He pushed the tip in and brought his hand up to rest on your hips as your jaw dropped and your eyes closed. He flicked his tongue across the roof of your mouth and you immediately kissed him back. He rocked gently forward, inching himself into you.

“Geez, babe, you’re so hot and tight,” he muttered frowning in concentration. You whined in pleasure. Your stomach tightened as he rocked again. Once his hips were flat against yours, he made you breath for a moment.

“You good, (Your name)?” he asked, tightly. You felt him twitch inside you.

“Dean,” you moaned. You looked him in the eye, noting the green almost completely overcome with a pleasured black, “ _Move_.” Dean didn’t have to be told twice. He growled and started to rut slowly against you. You moaned his name against his temple, his mouth sucking at your shoulder. His hips jerked against you sharply, you hissed as it jarred your stitches.

“Okay,” you mumbled, “definitely okay.” He kissed you. You pulled at his hair and he moaned and sharply pounded into you again. At your groan of his name, he couldn’t help but do it again. You felt yourself tighten around him and you caught his moan as he lost his rhythm.

“Let go for me, (Your name),” he whispered roughly, and you did with a loud moan of his name. You clenched around him and saw stars. Dean rutted against you sharply and growled your name as he came. You both moaned as you rode out your aftershocks. He rested on you until you both caught your breaths. He gently slid from you and slipped the condom off, tying it and tossing into the trashcan by your desk. He picked up a shirt and cleaned you off before swiping it over himself. He crawled back up next to you and pulled you to his chest.

(*) “I love you, Dean,” you whispered, pulling his lips to yours.

“I love you, too, (Your name),” he whispered back, “More than you’ll probably ever know.” You sighed against his throat and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's that heart feeling??? ;3
> 
> Let me know what you thought!!
> 
> One more chapter, my darlings!!!  
> <3, C.O.T.


	30. Time to go, Sammy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...  
> Your heart no longer belongs to you. In it's place is the heart of your soulmate.
> 
> This end is only the first chapter to the rest of *your* life.
> 
> :) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovelies,  
> it is with a bitter sweet, yet proud, smile that I click the 'finished work' box. Thank you so much for sticking with me and encouraging me to finish something I never expected to be so big! You ALL are beautiful and wonderful and I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!  
> Comments will always be open below! Hopefully I'll get the urge to write more, either in continuation of you and Dean or, hell, maybe even another pairing! I hope this work was all you had hoped it would be.  
> Always and forever XOXO,  
> CrowleysOwnTemptress<3

A week later, the doctor spent just five minutes taking the stitches out of your side.

“You’ll have scarring on your throat and side,” he warned you, “But there’s vanishing creams you can use to lighten them.” You thanked him and you and Dean headed back to the Impala.

“Not too bad for my first battle scars,” you laughed, squeezing Dean’s hand. He chuckled.

“I’d be lying if I said the neck scar didn’t make you look even more beautiful and badass,” he winked. You rolled your eyes and got in the car.

“You have some form of weaponry on you, right?” you asked, suddenly nervous.

“I figured if she actually does pull a gun on us, it would be best if my hand doesn’t flinch to a weapon,” Dean answered, giving you an amused look.

“Right… right, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you mumbled. You were currently heading home to (Bestie)’s house to tell Mama that you and her would be taking the summer off to go on a road trip with your boyfriends of only two weeks. You were completely unsure how the veteran cop would react. She liked the boys well enough and loved that Dean had saved you from bleeding out from the “mugger.” But going away for an entire summer? Criss-crossing the country?... _We’ll see_. Dean took your hand.

“It’ll be okay, (Your name), I promise,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips. You sighed.

“I know… she’s still one of the scariest women I know, though,” you chuckled.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m quite the charmer,” he winked.

“Yeah, good luck using that ‘charm’ on her,” you scoffed, “It may have worked on me but I can assure you she’s too smart for that.” He grinned. You thought back to the morning after Dean and you had made love.

_You woke up slowly, head resting on Dean’s chest. His heartbeat was strong, slow and steady. You radiated comfort. You sighed, contentedly, and pressed a light kiss over Dean’s heart. He inhaled deep and tightened his arms around you. You suppressed a squeak of pain as his arms pulled at your stitches. He relaxed again. He grunted and rubbed his eyes. An emerald green orb peeked under his hand._

_“Good morning, love,” you whispered, resting your chin on his chest. He grinned and pulled you carefully up his body. Your body shivered in awakening, remembering your mutual nakedness._

_“Good morning, gorgeous,” he rumbled, kissing your nose lightly. You giggled. “You sleep good?” You hummed and closed your eyes._

_“I slept very very good,” you grinned, “Someone wore me out last night.” He grinned triumphantly. His lower member twitched underneath you. You laughed and he turned pink. Suddenly, he rolled you over, careful not to jar your stitches, and kissed you deeply, running a calloused palm over your ribs. You shuddered and sighed. Your phone buzzed. Dean looked up in complete amazement._

_“I swear,” he moaned, head dropping to your shoulder, “I’m going to throw that thing against a wall.” You laughed and reached for your phone._

_“You can blame your brother that time,” you giggled, “He wants to know if we would like to join them for breakfast anytime soon.”_

_“No,” Dean growled, nipping your earlobe. Your stomach grumbled loudly. He paused and looked at your bare stomach, “Never mind then, I guess I have a monster to tame.” You rolled your eyes. He grinned and kissed down your body as he sat up. You sighed._

_“I’m going to go get plastic wrap to cover your bandage, then I’m going to help you shower,” he chuckled, picking his pants off the floor._

_“Okay,” you smiled. You watched as he reached for his shirt only to realize it was the one he used for clean-up last night. He shrugged and walked out the door. You groaned as you sat up. It was a good ache though. You got up gingerly and moved through your room. You grabbed clean underwear and new pants. You thought for a moment and picked up Dean’s button-up again. Dean came back in with a deep red coloring the tops of his ears._

_“I don’t want to know,” you chuckled, tucking your face into your hands. He laughed. You were rather impressed. Dean noted you moving stiffly in the shower. He turned the warm water up and gently rubbed out the knots in your back and shoulders. He chuckled every time he hit a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a rather lecherous moan._

_You kept your hair down and pulled it to the side, trying to cover up the dark hickey Dean gave you. You tried not to call attention to it as you yawned into the kitchen._

_“Good morning, lovebirds,” (Bestie) grinned. She jumped off the counter and crossed her arms in front of you. The longer she stood there, the darker your blush got. She busted out laughing._

_“I knew it! You owe my twenty bucks, Sam!” she yelled, bounding over to poke Sam in the ribs._

_“What? No way! How can you tell?” he argued. She bounded back over and brushed your hair over your shoulder and you squeaked in embarrassment and clapped a hand over your neck. (Bestie) laughed and pulled her hair to the side. She had a nearly identical hickey on her neck. You busted out laughing at stared at the boys._

_“What?” they asked in unison. They looked at each other. You and (Bestie) only laughed harder. Together, you showed the boys their identical markings. Dean laughed and punched Sam on the arm. Sam went pink and awkwardly chuckled._

_Turns out the markings weren’t the only thing both boys had on their minds last night. Sam and (Bestie) had talked and she had decided that she wanted to go with Sam. Just like that, the Winchester Brothers were joined by the (Bestie’s last name) Sisters. Now all that was left was to finish healing and tell the families._

Dean pulled up outside of the house behind (Bestie)’s car. You braced yourself. Sam and (Bestie) were already there but she wouldn’t say anything until you were there for moral support… and to be a human shield. As far as Mama knew, (you had called her Mama ever since high school when she introduced you as her adopted daughter) this was just a relax day celebrating your full recovery. Dean grabbed your hand, startling you out of your inner mulling. You grinned nervously and leaned against him.

“Hey, Mama! We’re here,” you called. Two bulldogs came bounding around the corner only to crash simultaneously into your legs. You chuckled and rubbed the wiggling masses.

“Awesome,” you heard her call, “We’re in the kitchen.” You followed her voice and Dean followed you with a hand on your waist. As you entered, she immediately noticed his hand. She kept her face passive but you thought you might’ve seen a glimmer of amusement in her eye. Copious amounts of food was eaten, jokes were made, and the boys, (Bestie)’s brother, and your best guy friend found foam swords and insisted on a swordsmen match out in the backyard. You chuckled as Sam and Dean were surprised at finally finding people whose skills rivaled theirs. (Bestie) caught your eye behind Mama’s head and nodded.

“Hey Mama? Can I talk to you about something?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“Of course, what’s up?” she asked, looking at you.

“Well… umm… you see,” you stumbled. You were damn near fearless when it came to werewolves and joining a life of hunting but your ‘Mama’ downright terrified you.

“We really love those guys,” (Bestie) blurted. Her eyes went wide and you could tell she fought the urge to cover her mouth. Dean, who was closest to the porch, battling (Bestie)’s brother, glanced from her to you. Mama chuckled.

”I know,” she smiled, “Any guys that can make you blush and (Your name) smile and not cringe at male contact, have got to be something special.” You felt your cheeks heat up as you watched Dean land a hit on your guy friend’s back when Sam backed him up close. Mama looked between the two of you and sighed.

“You girls are running off with them, aren’t you,” she didn’t ask a question, she simply stated. You looked at her in surprise. “Yeah, yeah, you aren’t the only one who can read a situation at a glance,” she chuckled, “You forget how many years I did that for a living.”

“We’ll only be gone for the summer,” you said, quietly, “We’re going to come back and finish up our degrees. And we’ll check in as often as you like.” She looked at you girls, then at the boys. You and (Bestie) exchanged nervous glances. After what seemed like an eternity, she sighed.

“Dean, Sam. Come here for a second,” she called. You girls tensed and you glanced around Mama for her possible weapons. Sam and Dean walked over cautiously. She stood up so that with her short stature, she could still look down at the boys from the porch. She pegged them under a steely look that sent shivers down your spine. Dean’s Adam’s apple bobbed but he met her gaze with courage. _Guess that’s what you learn being raised by a man like John Winchester_ , you mused.

“You boys watch out for my daughters, you hear me?” she asked dangerously, “If something happens to them, I’m not afraid to find you guys. I’ve got friends in high places and absolutely no tolerance of bullcrap.” The boys nodded. “And I’m just saying, I’ve got money set aside to give them pretty weddings… I trust you men are smart enough to pick up the underlying tones.” Both boys turned pink and refused to glance at you girls. The each replied with crystal clear, fully comprehending ‘yes ma’am’s. She turned to you girls. You stiffened.

“You call or text me every day, preferably call, but texts, from both of you, will be okay,” she told you, “And you will take (Your name)’s car. You don’t all need to ride in the muscle car, you understand?” You both said your ‘yes ma’am’s. “One more thing…” she said, “Well, two really. Stay together … and have fun, okay?, and be safe.” She grinned and you relaxed.

“Thank you, Mama” you smiled. Thank-you’s from the others immediately followed.

“You’re welcome, just be the smart kids I know you guys are,” she finished. The boys, sensing their dismissal, returned to their matches. The rest of the evening went amazingly. Laughter, jokes, and just all around content-ness flowed person to person.

The next day dawned bright and clear and you felt electrified with excitement as you bounced around the living room, checking yours and (Bestie)’s duffles. You each had a couple of boxes of stuff to keep in your rooms at the Bunker, which the boys stowed in the back of the Impala.

“Would you settle the crap down, please?” Dean laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, as you reached to remove yet another dagger from a hiding place behind the tv.

“Nope, I’m fully recovered and ready for action,” you giggled, twisting to peck his cheek.

“Ready for some action, huh?” he growled nosing your neck and placing a little nip. You blushed and pushed him off.

“Now listen here, you,” you mock scolded, putting your hands on your hips, “Just because I’m pretty much moving in with you, doesn’t mean we turn in to rabbits. That’s Sam and (Bestie)’s job.”

“Hey!” said sister, rounding the corner with one last book bag full of on-the-road entertainment and charging cable. You grinned at her.

“What? It’s true and you know it,” you shrugged. She blushed and you laughed. You did one last check of windows, doors and appliances. Joe would be keeping an eye out and making sure your mail got forwarded to you. You picked up your bag and duffle and glanced around again.

“Let’s go! Time to get a move on, Sammy!” Dean called down the hall, stopping in front of you, “You sure you want to do this?” You rolled your eyes.

“I do buuuut….” you said, placing your hand on your hip.

“But what?” Dean asked, eyes catching a glimmer of nervousness. You sighed dramatically.

“You never officially asked me to go,” you grinned. It was his turn to roll his eyes.

“(Your name),” he sighed, wrapping arms around your waist, thumbing over your healing scar, “Will you come with me and be my Hunter wench?” You almost melted. Instead, you threw your head back laughing.

“Oh! You were so close!” you laughed, pulling your face away to eye him. He chuckled and kissed your nose. His eyes shone with love and your heart fluttered.

“Will you come with me and be a Hunter? Please?” he asked, gently, pulling you tighter to his hips.

“Hmmm,” you played, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he chuckled.

“Yup, I guess so,” you smiled. He groaned in mock annoyance and pressed his lips to yours. You pressed one, two, three light kisses and he rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m glad y’all are coming with us,” he sighed, “Lil’ Sammy will finally have someone to play with while I do adult things.” You chuckled.

“What kind of adult things would you possibly be doing?” you chuckled. He smirked and grabbed your ass.

“I’ll let you decide,” he laughed. You laughed and pulled away from him.

“Ready when you are,” Sam said, walking into the living room, backpack over his shoulder. Dean tossed his keys to him. Shocked, Sam said, “Dude, you’re letting me drive?”

“I better see my car every time I turn around, you got me? You stop when we stop. No rabbit trails,” Dean instructed with a wink at you. Sam's face lit up. You chuckled and ushered everyone towards the door. You locked up and headed to the elevators. You pressed the garage floor and the doors closed.

You heart began to pound and for the first time, you felt you were truly where you were supposed to be. You were grinning so big it hurt your cheeks. You looked over at (Bestie). She mirrored your look. She was happy. Beyond happy even. Her eyes sparkled when Sam took her hand. A hand settled on the small of your back and you leaned back and rested your head on Dean’s shoulder.

The doors opened and you climbed into your respective cars. Sam at the helm of the beloved Baby, you taking your place at Sir James’ reins. You said good bye to Joe at the gate and gave him your keys. He wished you luck and tried not to show that he was getting slightly misty eyed. You had already said good bye to Sarah and Mama and the others last night.

Sam was in front of you, but as you hit city limits, you glanced at Dean and winked. You rolled the windows down and the sun roof back. Dean grinned ear to ear. You swerved around Sam and floored it, engine purring and taking off like a jet. You saw Sam and (Bestie) grin as you passed. Dean whooped at them and threw his head back laughing. You laughed alongside him. You inched the car faster and Dean’s hand wrapped around yours. You sighed, contentedly, to yourself,

_Finally perfect… even if it is ridiculously fanfiction-y. ;)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Thank you all!!! Thank you for reading, re-reading, commenting, and of course, being patient when circumstances left big hiatus'.
> 
> Comment thoughts below<3  
> Until next time.  
> Much love and thanks!! *Slowly bows as the curtain drops*  
> -C.O.T.


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